A Port in the storm
by DeJean Smith
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night when Edward Masen made his way to Swan House in the hopes of fulfilling his father's promise. He prayed Master Swan would honor the contract Edward, Sr., had made but could no longer uphold. Little did the young man know that the storms of life strike equally, regardless of social status, and he was not the only one searching for a safe port.
1. Chapter 1

A port in the storm

 **Greetings, friends! This was a charity submission I did for Fandoms against Domestic Violence, and the time has come where I can post it. Many thanks to Fran for beta-ing and Gabby/Gail for pre-reading the original tale. I have done a little cleaning up and fluffing since I submitted it but nothing drastic…until the new stuff!**

 **For those that may be concerned, there is no abuse or violence in this tale. There is conflict, but that's not where the 'M' rating is earned.**

 **It was a dark and stormy night when Edward Masen made his way to Swan House in the hopes of fulfilling his father's promise. He prayed Master Swan would honor the contract Edward, Sr., had made but could no longer uphold. Little did the young man know that the storms of life strike equally, regardless of social status, and he was not the only one searching for a safe port.**

Torrential rains continued to fall, punctuated by frequent thunder and lightning as a young man trudged down a wide driveway leading to an ostentatious manor house. He carried no umbrella, for he did not own one. Clutching his worn overcoat tighter around him as best he could with a worn satchel in one hand, he continued on his course to the front door just as another wave of precipitation tumbled from the sky.

After straightening his sopping wet clothing in a futile attempt to appear merely soggy rather than completely soaked, he pulled the bell, praying he would not have to wait for long before a servant would respond. He was not disappointed. A tall, slender man in a distinguished gray suit opened the door, disdain at the man on the doorstep's condition evident on his face.

"Edward Masen to see Charles Swan."

"Master Swan is dead, Sir."

Edward's heart clenched. He had placed all of his hopes on reaching Swan's home to fulfill his father's promise.

"He and my father had a contract."

The doorman paused, weighing his words carefully. He was not an unkind soul, but there would be a veritable hell to pay should this Mr. Masen drip too long on the hardwood floors.

"Perhaps you had best come inside and speak to Master Hale."

"Master Hale?"

The servant motioned for Edward to enter the foyer, closing the door with a solid 'thunk' just as another bolt of lightning, this time closer than before, lit up the sky.

"Mistress Isabella and young Master Emmett's guardian. If you will wait here, Sir."

The man steadily and silently walked out of the room.

Edward checked his reflection in the mirror, straightening his coat, brushing off as much of the condensation as he could. There was little he could do for his hair. Always unruly, now, after a hike in the rain and wind without the benefit of a cover or proper overcoat, it hung past his shoulders in dark ropes.

Then he listened.

Somewhere in the house, a fire crackled. He could hear the popping and hissing as the rain came down the chimneys onto the burning logs.

He shivered. He pondered if the rest of the house was as cold as the foyer or if it were merely due to the fact he was soaked to the bone.

The faint scent of Sunday roast clung in the air. Edward unconsciously rubbed his stomach as it began to protest the lack of anything solid being deposited therein for the last thirty-six hours.

The servant reappeared, his face only slightly more friendly than before.

"Master Hale has retired for the evening, but he does remember an Edward Masen being mentioned in Master Swan's papers."

"That was my father. Edward Masen, Senior. I am his son."

Edward clamped his mouth closed. Exhaustion and desperation gripped his brain and the logic circuits therein, making his reactions muddy. He hoped he did not appear as simple as he felt.

The servant did not appear pleased to be interrupted and Edward's visage became properly apologetic.

"Master Hale has requested a meal, a bath, and a room be prepared for you, and he will be available to discuss what is to be done as he breaks his fast in the morn."

Edward tried to hide his happiness at the idea of a solid meal and a good bed to sleep in. At that particular moment, he would be content to sleep in the hay barn and eat pig slop.

"This way, Sir," the servant ordered, motioning toward the main hall. "Leave your satchel and coat. I will have it brought to your room."

Edward followed closely, trying desperately not to appear overanxious.

Soon he found himself in a well-appointed kitchen, the scents of the evening's meal still lingering in the air.

His stomach rumbled in anticipation.

He clutched at it in an effort to mute the sound.

A warm laugh called his attention back to his surroundings.

"Jasper, love, who have you drowned and brought into my kitchen?"

A petite wisp of a woman made her way around the table across the room, wiping her hands dry on her apron. She had a warmth of spirit that immediately put Edward at ease, and he found himself smiling down at her.

"Master Hale has requested a meal for Master Edward Masen."

"Pish. You know in my kitchen there are no titles." She waved her arms as if erasing the words from the air. "Charles, Lord bless his soul, would not have it."

She tilted her head up as if expecting a kiss. The man looked around to see if they were being watched. Since there were no other servants present to pay them any mind, he placed a quick buss on her cheek.

The woman beamed up at the man, and for a brief moment, his face softened into a loving smile.

She turned back to face her guest, hands on her hips, her sharp eyes assessing his appearance in a way that held no judgment.

"So, Edward. You look like a man in need of a good meal or two. Let me fix you a plate. Name's Alice. This here is Jasper, as you may have gathered."

She bustled around the kitchen, placing more food on a piece of china than he had ever seen before. It was soon joined by a tankard of ale and a chair pulled up next to the fire for him to warm himself by.

"You sit. You eat. You need more, you call for Alice, and I will fix it myself."

Alice grabbed Edward by the arm and guided him to a chair, forced him to sit, and shoved a plate into his hands before she disappeared into the larder.

"You better eat," Jasper said when Edward hesitated. "Alice will take it as an insult if you don't clean your plate."

Edward picked up a piece of cold, roasted chicken and began to devour the fare more quickly than was polite.

Jasper smiled thinly. He knew Alice was a fine cook and recognized true hunger when he saw it. The two of them would be fine friends. His wife took no greater pleasure than to feed those that liked to eat. And something about the young man bespoke of someone who could use a friend.

"I will go arrange for your bath to be brought to your room. I will fetch you in the morning when Master Hale is ready. I do think you will sleep late. You look like you might fall asleep where you are sitting."

Edward mumbled a thank you around his full mouth, blushing at his manners, but it had been days since he had enjoyed a full meal, taking only a piece of bread or an apple here and there as he journeyed to Swan House.

"Take your time, Sir."

Edward smiled and took a draught of his ale. It was of good quality and unwatered, and he felt the drink warm him from the insides out.

A blissful sigh bubbled forth, quickly followed by an appreciative belch, that Edward guiltily attempted to suppress before realizing he was now alone. Relaxing immeasurably, he turned back to his plate and cup with renewed vigor.

After a few moments, he felt drier, warmer, and well-fed. He reached back for his tankard only to find it empty. He started to look around to see if he could find Alice to ask if he could have something more to drink when a young woman caught his eye. She was watching him curiously as if trying to determine who he was.

Edward jumped to his feet and snapped to a quick bow.

"Edward Masen, at your service," he said briskly, hands at his sides as he had been taught.

The woman said nothing, merely staring at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

Assuming she was a scullery maid, he motioned with his tankard.

"I do not suppose I could get more to drink, kind lady."

A mischievous glint in her eye told him that she was trying not to laugh.

"Or could you fetch Missus Alice so I could ask her?"

At this, she laughed. Quickly, quietly. But she laughed and covered her mouth in an attempt to mute the sound, which disappointed him for he very much enjoyed it.

Then she came and held out her hand for the mug. Edward offered it without a word, and she took it before disappearing into another part of the kitchen. A few minutes later, she reappeared and held out to him a full tankard.

He nodded his thanks as he took the cup and quickly drank half of the contents in one draught.

When he looked up, the woman was gone. Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, Edward surveyed the kitchen to determine where she had disappeared to but he did not succeed.

Moments later, Alice reappeared. She looked at his empty plate and nodded her approval.

"Need more?"

"Oh, no. I could not eat another morsel as wonderful as it was."

She waved off the praise before noticing his half-full cup.

"Did you not need more to drink?"

"Oh, I had my cup refilled."

"You did?"

"Yes. A lovely young lady."

"Young, you say?"

"Yes. Why?"

"What did this young lady look like?" Alice's face scrunched up in thought. There was only one other 'young lady' in this house, and she had never approached a stranger in her life.

"About this tall." He placed his hand mid-chest. "And long, dark brown hair. Lovely features. Seemed a bit delicate. Simple, black dress with silver buttons."

"And you say she got you more ale?"

"Yes. Why?"

"That was Isabella."

"Isabella?"

"Isabella Swan. Older child of Charles Swan."

Edward paled. His employer had just served him a drink. And he had asked her for it as if she was nothing more than a common servant.

"Isabella has not spoken to anyone other than her brother... Has not interacted with much of anyone since her father's death. She wanders the house, keeping to herself."

"Is she mad?"

"No. I don't think she's mad. I think she's heartbroken. Missing her father. Her mother left the house years ago when she and Emmett were still in the nursery, and she remembers little of the woman. But her father and she, they were very close." Alice paused before continuing. "And you say she talked with you?"

Edward thought for a moment.

"No, she did not say anything. She did laugh at me for asking her for a drink."

"She laughed?"

He nodded. It had been a beautiful sound, but she had indeed laughed.

"Well, Edward Masen, you may have just earned your keep if you got a sound out of her."

Jasper reappeared at the door. He looked back and forth between Alice and Edward, knowing something was afoot. Alice waved him off, meaning she would talk to him later.

"This way, Master Edward."

Edward followed Jasper up to a room. He realized it was not in the servant's quarters, but on the main floor as if he was a guest of the family.

Just before he entered the chamber, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a black dress similar to the one Isabella wore, but it whisked out of view when he looked back.

"I trust everything will be as you need it," Jasper said, motioning toward the bed. "I have taken the liberty to unpack your belongings; sent a few pieces to the seamstress to repair. They must have been damaged in transit."

Edward blushed. He knew Jasper was being kind, but the fact was, his clothes were more quick repairs by his own hand than the original stitching. Spare coins had been used to finish his education in the hopes of earning a place in a fine home as a tutor or even a sponsorship to further his schooling and potentially be a professor at a small institution.

He burbled out a thank you as he examined the room. A simple copper tub filled with still-steaming water was in one corner, near a cheerily burning fire. A desk, a bed, and a privy closet finished the furnishings. It was far finer than any quarters he had enjoyed while at university.

"I will come for you when Master Hale is ready. If it is before breakfast, that is. If after, I will show you to the kitchens."

Edward nodded and soon found himself alone. Wasting no time, he quickly stripped and submerged himself in the still blessedly hot water, a sound of bliss filling the room as he soon found himself warmed to the bone. In his rapturous state, he did not notice the eyes of a painting behind him disappear, only to be replaced by a pair of live, dark brown ones. He did hear a small, faint, and positively female voice gasp, and he spun in the copper tub to see if he could find the source. In his haste, a small amount of water sloshed onto the wood floor as he clutched a small washing cloth over his chest in a thin attempt at modesty.

Edward quickly looked around the room but was unable to ascertain the sound's location. With a quick shrug, he decided to return to his ablutions.

Isabella stood in the servant's passageway, her hand over her heart. She had not known the visitor would be in the tub. Had she, she surely would not have spied on him. Her eyes were clenched tightly closed as she tried to calm her heart. She had not seen anything that she had not witnessed before…only a broad back without a stitch of clothing. When he spun around, she caught a quick glimpse of … Her breathing stuttered at the image burned into her mind. A sculpted chest with a light coating of dark hair.

She took a deep breath.

She had seen bare backs before, she rationalized. Whether it was the stable boys after mucking out the stalls or even her own brother as he ran to the small pond behind the house after his lessons on a hot day. This was surely no different, right?

Even she realized her justification was shaky at best.

That man was not mucking out a stall in his breeches, and he certainly was not a seven year-old boy.

Isabella felt her cheeks warm even further as she pictured the stranger's broad shoulders and strong arms.

Above all, those times of stable boys and her brother had been when she was younger. She was eighteen now. And she knew it was not the right thing to be seeing no matter how attractive it might be.

And the young man was quite handsome.

She shook her head to clear it of such an inappropriate thought, but the image of broad shoulders and bare chest refused to disappear.

A part of her wanted to go back and look again. Curiosity had always been one of her grandest traits, but propriety won and, she heaved a frustrated sigh. Gathering her skirts, Isabella cast one last glance toward her spy hole before retiring to her own bedroom.

 **Thank you for reading. I'm hoping to post chapters weekly—some long, some short.**

 **I hope you enjoy, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts because reviews are almost as good as Edward in a copper tub.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bonus for ya this week! More at the end…**

Chapter 2:

Isabella sat at her dressing table, brushing out her long, brown hair as she prepared for bed. Outside, the storm continued, the rain beating against the window panes as the occasional bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.

Her mind wandered back to the stranger in the chamber down the hall.

Who was he?

Why was he here?

Countless possibilities flittered through her brain ranging from a long, lost relation to a bill collector to emissary from the king himself.

She shook her head at the latter notion. Reading too many far-fetched novels had given her ideas well beyond rational though.

And her curiosity had given her a glimpse of something quite inappropriate.

Not that she was particularly upset about it. The stranger cut a fine figure. And all of his parts that should be covered, were indeed hidden from her view.

Isabella placed her brush down on her dressing table and pressed her hands to her cheeks, willing the flush she knew they held to abate.

A familiar pattern was rapped on her bedroom door, rousing her from her thoughts. She rose and cautiously opened it.

"You should be asleep, Emmett," she murmured as her younger brother bolted by her, a blur of dark blue sleep clothes.

Isabella watched as a terrified seven-year-old dashed across the room, dove under the covers on her bed, and shook as if chilled to the bone.

"Emmett?" she inquired soothingly, closing the door behind him.

The lump under the covers shook its head.

"Don't you send me back." His voice was muffled by the covers, but strong in its conviction.

"Emmett," she sighed. She was not about to return him to the nursery.

"I don't like it in that room."

"It's the same room I used to sleep in. With you, you silly-head."

Isabella sat on the edge of the bed and tried to pull the covers off her brother's head, but he had them wrapped tightly around.

"You're not there anymore, are you?" came a tired, thin voice.

"It's not proper for me to sleep in there."

"Why?"

Isabella sighed. She had explained all of this to him countless times before, but a seven-year-old believes what a seven-year-old wants to believe and at this point and time, Emmett did not want to acknowledge the fact that his big sister was too old to stay in the nursery.

"Why do you have to grow up?" Emmett whimpered.

"Oh, baby brother," she murmured, wrapping her arms around the blanket-engulfed little boy.

"I'm not a baby," he harrumphed.

"No. You are not. But I am no longer a child."

And she knew that it would not be long before she was expected to take a turn and at least make an attempt at finding a husband. She truly did not want to leave Swan House. This was home. The only place she had ever slept, to be honest.

For so long, Swan House had been her safe place—somewhere the outside world could not touch her. Now with Father gone, and the estate left to Emmett, she felt uncertain what or where her future lay.

"I don't like it."

Isabella smiled at her brother's honesty. She did not care for the changes, either, but Master Hale had stepped into their home upon her father's death and announced he would continue to raise the Swan children in the way her father had wanted.

And, to be fair, for the most part, he had. Isabella continued to receive her shipments of books, writing journals and quills, and the occasional new dress. Emmett was allowed to continue his pestering the household staff, asking questions and learning about how to run the house in the most subtle of fashions.

But Horatio Hale was not Charles Swan. He did not tell stories of his adventures. He did not stay up late sharing how he had passed the day, who he had seen, and what the tenants were doing. Master Hale managed the household funds, arranged for a tutor for Emmett (who was on his third since their father's death), and hinted at how Isabella needed to be thinking about marriage, all with a sense of intentional detachment neither child was familiar.

Additionally, Master Hale had no love of horses and long rides through the woods, a pastime Emmett adored. He was a fine equestrian already, regardless of his age. As a result, on more than one occasion, Emmett had deemed his guardian to be boring. Although she had chided him for being rude, Isabella had to agree.

While Charles Swan had been young, not quite a year into his second score, Master Hale was well past sixty. In fact, Hale's granddaughter, a lovely, young girl of ten, was a frequent visitor, much to Emmett's dismay for he was expected to be on his best behavior and share his toy soldiers with the fair Rosalie.

To be a girl, she had an annoying fascination with wheels and carts and weaponry, Emmett often groused.

A boom of thunder, much too close for Isabella's liking, sounded. She normally had no fear of storms, but she had always been able to go visit her father and have him soothe her with a kiss on the forehead, tell her how to measure where the storm was and how fast it was traveling and which direction it was going. Now that was impossible, no matter how much she prayed.

She knew her brother. He was as stubborn as their father and the exact copy of him. With a sigh of resignation, Isabella rose and blew out the oil lamps that illuminated her bedroom.

"If you're going to stay here, you might as well scoot over and give me some room."

Emmett distrustfully peered out from under the covers.

She motioned for him to slide over, which he immediately did, curling up and laying on his side to go to sleep.

"Good night, brother mine," she whispered, placing a quick kiss on his temple.

"Good night," Emmett mumbled, quickly allowing sleep to engulf him.

Isabella slid under the covers.

"Do you know who the visitor was?"

The memory of the handsome stranger in the kitchen – and in the wash tub – flickered through her mind, but she shook her head in denial.

"No," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair, earning a happy sigh in response. "Jasper took him downstairs to have something to eat and then gave him a room. And a bath."

Emmett shuddered. Baths were paramount to punishment in his mind.

"I supposed we will find out in the morning," Isabella said, tucking the covers around herself.

She received a sleepy nod in return before the peaceful, even sounds of Emmett's breathing filled the room.

For a brief moment, she was jealous of the tranquility youth brought. When she was seven, she never would have dreamed her life would be as it was. Then, she had been safe and secure, never worrying about what the future held. Now, she felt as uncertain as one of Emmett's toy ships bobbing in his bathtub with little certainty as to where she would go or what she would do.

 **I am so thrilled y'all are enjoying this story. *waves to new and old readers* My in-box overfloweth with alerts and reviews! I hope to respond over the weekend once chapter 3 is ready to launch on Monday.**

 **I had a good giggle over the number of you who think Bella's a creeper…I see her more as a curious 18 year-old. She had no idea Edward would be in such a state and has learned her lesson.**

 **Again, thank you to Fran for betaing the original entry and Gabby/Gail for pre-reading. I've added a few details in this chapter that weren't in the original, and I hope you enjoy them.**

 **See you Monday!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Realized I had forgotten the disclaimer…characters are someone else's, plot is mine. Most of the chapter was beta-ed by Sunflower Fran & pre-read by Gabby/Gail. I did add some.**

The next morn, Edward Masen, clad in his best suit, waited impatiently to be summoned. First, he checked over his letters of recommendation, ensuring all were neat and dry. Then he pulled out his certificates of graduation, smaller versions of his diplomas that would travel better. Finally, he took one last look in the mirror. His normally unruly hair had been properly brushed back and tied in a neat queue. He knew the style was beginning to be out of fashion, but it was how his father had always worn his hair and Edward felt it made him appear a few years older than his current twenty-three summers.

Finally, a knock at the door came, and Jasper entered upon receiving shakily-voiced permission.

"Master Hale has requested you join him, young Master Emmett, and Miss Isabella in the main dining room for breakfast."

Without waiting for a response, Jasper led the way downstairs, and Edward scurried to keep up with the long-legged butler.

In the morning light, Edward could see the furnishings better. Everything was neat and tidy, well cared for but not ostentatious. Nothing was brand new, yet nothing seemed to be broken and in disrepair. The scent of lemon oil clung to the damp air, tickling his nose.

After just a few minutes, the pair reached their destination. Along one side of the formal dining room stretched a buffet laden with hearty fare. Edward felt his mouth salivate and hoped his stomach would not rumble. Alice's healthy servings the night before had only whetted his appetite after being without for so long.

"Ah, Mister Masen, I presume," an older, distinguished gentleman said, interrupting Edward's thoughts. "So good of you to join us."

The man wiped his mouth with a fine linen napkin and stood, presenting one hand, which Edward shook firmly as he had been taught.

"I am Horatio Hale, guardian of Isabella and Emmett Swan. Jasper said you had a contract with their father?"

Mr. Hale was a portly gentleman, clad in a fine suit of dark charcoal gray and a burgundy cravat. His round face was both inviting and intimidating with clear blue eyes that captured every detail.

Edward cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably as his carefully rehearsed introduction flew out the window.

"Actually, it was between Mr. Swan and my father."

"Your father? Hmm…" Mr. Hale's brow creased as he grew more intrigued by the situation before him. "Best make yourself a plate and let us discuss this."

He returned to his seat and took a large bite of his eggs, watching every move Edward made.

Emmett, having little interest in adult goings on, continued to shovel food into his mouth, earning a tsk from his older sister. Isabella properly ate her bowl of porridge, stirring it slowly, wanting to study this newcomer to Swan House. However, years of training told her to keep her eyes averted even though the lesson pricked her.

Edward was guided to a chair across from Emmett who sat at the right hand of Mr. Hale. Isabella sat at the far end of the grand table. Edward felt uncomfortable with the setup. She was almost deliberately isolated from the conversation to come even though it would most certainly involve her. The house he grew up in was nearly the size of this single room, he thought, trying his best to not appear the country bumpkin he felt he was.

As if sensing his discomfort, Mr. Hale tilted his head and studied the young man.

"Is there a problem?"

"I am not used to such grandeur. That is all. I am a simple man." Edward took a quick breath. "And as lady of the house, should not Miss Swan participate in our discussions?"

A slow smile crept over Mr. Hale's face. He had been the son of a farmer, who, in his youth, had the good luck to rescue a man of means from highwaymen. His thanks had been in the form of a scholarship to university and then a position with an established lawyer under which to read.

"Isabella?"

She looked up silently.

"If you would be so kind as to move next to your brother."

Unsure of what to do, Isabella rose, taking her bowl. Edward hastily put down his plate and hurried to where her chair was, picking it up and carrying it to her new place.

"Thank you," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

Mr. Hale's eyebrows rose, almost getting lost in the wisp of white hair that hung over his forehead. Isabella rarely spoke to strangers, usually accepting any assistance with a gentle smile and a nod of her head.

"My pleasure, Miss Swan," Edward murmured before gently sliding her seat to its place at the table. He shuffled quickly back to his spot.

Once everyone was settled into their rightful seats, Mr. Hale leaned toward Edward.

"Now, my boy, I read the letter you brought. I am sorry about your father's injury. I do hope he heals quickly."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Is it my understanding that you are to fulfill the position of tutor to young Emmett?"

At the mention of his name, the boy looked up, his face a mixture of pleasure and horror. He was curious about this visitor, but the idea of a tutor was a bit off putting.

"I have credentials and …" Edward reached down for his aged, leather portfolio and fumbled with the ribbon holding it closed before reaching in for his documentation.

Horatio raised his hand, and Edward stopped his talking.

"There will be time enough for that after we finish our meal. Eat before it gets cold."

Without waiting for agreement, the older man returned to his plate, leaving the others to watch in disbelief for a moment. Emmett began first, followed by Isabella who smiled thinly but encouragingly at Edward who dug into his plate.

After the meal, Mr. Hale motioned for Edward to follow him, and the two retired to an office. Edward assumed it had been Master Swan's.

Horatio took a seat behind the desk as Edward hesitated in the entryway.

"Should I shut the door, Sir?"

Mr. Hale shook his head.

"No use in it. Take a seat while I peruse your letters."

Edward obeyed, wondering just what the older man meant by 'no use in it.' He sat ramrod straight as Master Hale read each document thoroughly before neatly replacing them in the portfolio.

"I appreciate a man that keeps his agreements," Master Hale finally gruffed. "I especially appreciate one that does so when facing adversity. Did you come here on your own or did your father request it of you?"

"It was my idea, Sir. Master Swan had already forwarded my father several months' wages to aid in moving expenses when the accident occurred. The doctor has said my father should not move until his leg is completely healed, and since I have received no offers of employment and have recently graduated, I believed it to be the right thing to do."

Horatio nodded.

"I thought so. Any man that would travel during the storm we had last night to fulfill an obligation his father made to a dead man is either insane or highly admirable."

"I don't know about…"

Edward's words were silenced by the waving of the older man's hand.

"I prefer to think you are admirable and that is because of your upbringing. I will honor your request to take the place of your father and be Emmett's tutor. Hopefully, your youth will be an asset."

"An asset, sir?"

Mr. Hale leaned across the desk, studying Edward for a moment before he continued speaking.

"Neither Isabella nor Emmett are what you would call normal. Even before their father's passing, both children have certain … eccentricities to them. Isabella can recall conversations from when she was a toddler; tell you every detail of the surroundings when it happened. And her debates, when she deems fit to speak, confound even the most ardent of students. Emmett wanders both in body and mind. He is easily distracted, but likewise, easily brought back to task…if one has the patience."

Edward first thought of his younger sister, Tanya, and how she had been treated by those around them. When she was a mere handful of years, painful whispers of whether or not she should be sent to the asylum or just put away because of her oddities. But he had patience, love, and a quick mind and found a way of working around her quirks. The two had a special bond, but Edward knew others often brushed aside those that were different.

Horatio opened a drawer and pulled out a ledger. He flipped through a few pages before settling on one and studied a column of entries.

"It appears it has been about six months since the last tutor was dismissed. Or departed. The entry does not say one way or another."

"I plan to conduct an assessment to determine just where Master Emmett is in his education."

"I would expect no less."

"So I am hired?" Edward's heart lifted. This could provide him a means of living that his education suited him for and that excited him. As did the thought that perhaps he could send his father enough to stave off the bill collectors.

"Wouldn't you care to know the salary?"

"I…"

Horatio pointed to a line. Edward rose from his seat to read the number, his eyes getting bigger when he realized it was quite a generous amount.

"But that is…"

Horatio put his finger over his lips, effectively silencing the younger man.

"Ears."

Edward looked questioningly at him.

Horatio strode over to one wall and thumped it quite soundly. The thud echoed twice, and a muffled 'ow!' sounded. After a momentary pause, the sound of muted, rapid footfalls filled the room.

"This house has more secret hallways and passages than any I have ever known. Charles' father was my best friend growing up, and we explored them all. I have a hard time thinking that he didn't show my godson all of them and when he grew up and had his own children, he shared that knowledge."

Edward quickly remembered the muted cry he had heard the night before and hoped it had been Emmett that had spied on him. A seven-year-old boy's voice could sound… Even his most ardent attempt at convincing himself sounded hollow, but one could have faith.

He could feel the tips of his ears tinge pink as he considered how he insulted the lady of the house by mistaking her for a servant girl and then could have been seen in a state of undress.

"The children probably know the passages better than I," Horatio mused, remembering good times playing with their grandfather.

He quickly brought himself back to the present.

"Regardless, if you would like to start today, that will be quite acceptable."

Edward nodded, anxious to begin earning his keep.

"There is room and board included in the sum. I will draw us up a contract. As their guardian, I will expect assessments. And a certain level of comportment."

Edward nodded, his mind already moving toward the tests he would give to assess Emmett's progress and where he needed to start.

"And in about six weeks, I will expect Isabella will be out of her mourning and ready to take a turn in order to find a husband. I have already received a few letters of interest from gentlemen that wish to call upon her. I'm confident she will find a suitable match before the end of the year."

"At which time, she will take guardianship of the young master?"

"That will be something her husband will decide."

Edward stiffened at the notion that Isabella would have no say in caring for her brother.

Horatio swept his hands around, motioning toward the room's furnishings.

"As you can tell, the Swans are by no means candidates for the poor house. There are those who will put up with an odd wife in order to secure her dowry. Fortunately, Charles left it in his will that both children, when the time came, could marry the one of their choice."

Edward was unsure he liked that someone would marry Isabella for her wealth, but he was young and of a much lower class than what it appeared the Swans were a part of, and he had little knowledge of the ins and outs that might involve. For once, he was thankful he had a choice in who he might someday wed. Had he examined closer, he would have realized he was being watched for his reaction rather closely by Master Horatio Hale.

 **Didn't get to review replies this weekend, but I hope to this week…maybe. Tonight, my baby goes to a High School orientation/elective fair meeting. Gah!**

 **I'm going to try to get a second chapter out Friday so keep your fingers crossed. If not, see you Monday!**

 **For those that don't know, I do have a Facebook account (DeJean Smith—it has the banner for She tames the beast within as its picture) where I update status, sometimes do teasers, and general goings on in my life. I'm also chatty, so if you want to ask questions, I'm available!**

 **XOXO**

 **-DeJean**


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy Monday!**

Anxious to officially commence his tutoring, Edward quickly enlisted the butler's assistance. Jasper agreed to deliver a message to young master Emmett requesting he meet Edward in the small room off the nursery a half hour after the noon time meal.

Edward gathered his meager supplies and found a few additions scattered throughout the room.

Then he waited, hands clasped behind his back, standing proud and tall in the room, pondering his good fortune. Even the weather mimicked his feelings as last night's clouds and rains were no more and a crystal blue sky shone from above. Perhaps his good fortune finally arrived.

By quarter past two, Edward had yet to see his young charge. Growing slightly impatient, he began to search the upper floors for the youngster but had no luck. He had just gotten to the library and scoured it, finding no one when the sound of light footsteps in the hall roused his attention, and Edward hurried to intercept whoever it was.

He saw Isabella slowly pass by the doorway and rushed to catch her.

"Miss Swan?"

She paused, remaining turned away from him.

"A word, please, Miss Swan."

Cautiously, she turned, her face a calm mask.

Edward remained a respectful distance from her, not wishing to appear too anxious, but a part of him panicked at the notion he had already lost his charge.

"Do you know where your brother is? He was supposed to meet me in the classroom well over an hour ago."

An understanding smile tugged at one side of her mouth.

"You do know."

She nodded.

"Can you tell me?"

Isabella opened her mouth, but no words came. She was unsure of this young man, and her brother's trust meant too much to her for her to betray him.

Suddenly, an idea came to her, and she raised one finger before entering the library. She turned and motioned for him to follow.

Edward trailed after her, anxious to glean any information he could.

Isabella looked around the shelves before pulling out one book and held it out to Edward. He quickly read the title. It was a new work by an American author, Mark Twain. He was familiar with it and tried to think of how _Huckleberry Finn_ was supposed to tell him where Emmett Swan was.

"I do not understand."

Isabella pointed to the window where one could see the bright sun shining down, drying up the night's downpour.

Suddenly it came to him. Where else would a young man stuck inside after several days and nights of rain go when it suddenly became bright and sunny?

"He's playing hooky?"

She grinned and nodded.

"So where is his favorite place outside?"

Isabella chewed her lower lip, wondering if she should betray Emmett's confidence.

"You don't want to tell me. I understand. I did not like telling my younger sister's secrets," Edward said with a smile. He truly did understand the bond.

Isabella decided what to do. She approached the window and motioned for him to follow, which he did. She pointed toward the garden where Edward could see a small wooden building.

Upon closer examination, he realized it was a ship, finer than most schooners at any harbor.

"He likes to play captain?"

She nodded. Edward felt a pang of envy. As a child, he would have loved spending time at such a wonderful creation and felt a sense of empathy toward Emmett. Who would want to spend a rare sunny afternoon inside when there were pirates to capture and treasures to discover?

"Thank you, Miss Isabella," Edward said sincerely, turning toward the door.

"Bella."

He stopped midstride and spun on his heel, unsure if he had actually heard her speak.

"Bella," she repeated softly.

Edward noticed a fetching rosy blush grace her cheeks as she ducked her head and turned to leave.

"Bella."

Edward felt as though he had earned admission into the most private club in London by being privy to her preferred name.

And then she was gone.

Edward headed outside quickly but quietly, trying not to be discovered before he got to the play ship. He heard orders being shouted and the make-believe noises of fierce battles.

"Request permission to come aboard, Captain Emmett, sir!" Edward finally announced.

He stifled the laugh that threatened to break loose when the boy, high atop the tallest spire, almost fell. Emmett did not know what to do. He had been caught where he was not supposed to be, and he did not know if this tutor would be like the past one that had no patience and even less of a sense of humor. After his last run-in, he had been unable to sit for two days.

Put a bullfrog in the bathing tub one time, and no one lets you forget it.

"Request permission to come aboard!"

Edward stood at attention before Emmett, patiently waiting authorization.

"Granted," he finally said meekly, awaiting his punishment. For it would come. It always did.

Edward climbed aboard, admiring the smooth wood.

"Where are we sailing, Captain?"

Emmett stared at him warily, wondering what the older man was doing.

"Are we going to Cathay? India? Barbados?"

Emmett straightened, happy to have someone appreciate the game rather than belittle it. He started spouting a geographically correct path from England to India, naming the seas and currents, wind speeds, and even a few pieces of history pertaining to battles, some great, others small.

"And what would we hope to find there?"

"Why spices, of course."

"Of course. Which?"

Emmett listed the most to least common spices and commodities, including fair prices and the market value at different ports of call. It was obvious that someone had enjoyed long talks with their father and had absorbed each and every word.

For the rest of the afternoon, Emmett and Edward traveled the globe, sometimes purely playing the game and at others, sharing what each knew about the world around them. It was a pleasurable learning experience for both.

When Edward reported to Mr. Hale his findings, Horatio was partially surprised, but after what he knew about his childhood friend and his son, it only made sense to him. He was also pleased that this young tutor had somehow found a way to appeal to the child and made education more than a boring list of facts. And, if what Jasper and Alice had reported about Mr. Edward Masen, then his effect on young Isabella Swan also might be one that would make Charles smile down from his heavenly reward.

At the end of a fortnight, Edward and Emmett had spent a grand total of two hours in the classroom, and that was only due to the fact it rained one afternoon and the chairs in the classroom made an excellent fort for them to hide in once covered with a few stolen bed linens.

Instead, the two explored the library, the kitchens, Charles' office, the spring house, the orchards, the gardens, and the stables. Each location witnessed a lesson being given though not always by the older man. Sometimes, Emmett would regale Edward with what plants were growing and explain their uses. Both seemed to get along quite well and were able to learn from the other.

Isabella still wandered the Swan House property, but more often than not, it was the lands surrounding whatever area Edward and Emmett were located, watching and listening in silence. Horatio noticed three days in and teased the young woman in a loving manner, earning him a scowl and denial.

Then came another week of rain. As a result, for the next four days, Isabella used the hidden passages to eavesdrop on the lessons until one day she received the fright of her life when Horatio was waiting for her when she exited into her room.

"If you wished to participate in the lessons, child, you merely need to ask. I am sure Master Masen would not mind."

Isabella sadly shook her head. She did not want to be a distraction for her brother. No matter how much she enjoyed listening to Master Masen's interactions with Emmett, she could not be responsible for him failing to thrive for his tutor.

"Or, is it the teacher rather than the lesson that has earned your curiosity?"

Isabella blushed a deep red, shaking her head in furious denial, but her caregiver knew something was afoot and smiled as she hurriedly vanished down the hall.

 **Thank you for your continued support for this story. It truly means a lot to me.**

 **Besos to Fran who beta'd the original entry & Gabby/Gail who pre-read.**

 **See you next Monday… I hope. I live outside Atlanta & this Sunday is the big game. Our church has a long-standing event where we provide a sit-down restaurant quality meal, show the game, and have clothes & other necessities for anyone who wants to come. It's a great, rewarding time, but it makes for a very, very long day.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Apologies that this did not come out yesterday…I worked last week in less than ideal conditions which set off my allergies & then prep & working my church's Big Game Outreach (we hosted over 250 guests that needed a good meal, a place to watch the game, a clothes closet & toiletries, etc.). I was exhausted!**

 **Anyhu…this was my favorite bit of the original piece…I hope you enjoy!**

At the end of the first month of Edward's employ, Isabella sat primly in an overstuffed chair in the library, trying to read from a newly acquired octavo. Sadly, the print was too small, and she squinted in a futile effort to focus her eyes on the words. It was too late to hide her discomfort when she realized she was no longer alone in the room.

Edward gazed at her with genuine concern while Emmett appeared frustrated, his arms akimbo and a looking ever more like their father.

"Sissy, Father bought you those extra eyes to help," Emmett said simply.

She sadly shook her head, trying to avoid the attention. Yes, she had spectacles as they were called. Unfortunately, after being told how utterly silly they made her look when she pulled them out to see her stitches better, she had hurled them across the room and not looked back.

Isabella merely shrugged after a moment and closed her book. She had been told reading and the ideas it brought was unladylike and perhaps this was her sign from above that such endeavors were left to the men.

Emmett looked up at Edward expectantly. He wanted his tutor to solve the problem for he knew how much Isabella loved to read. At one time, she would read to him every night, something he looked forward to very much. Now, she made excuse after excuse and Emmett's patience had worn thin.

Suddenly, a pair of glasses appeared before her. Isabella looked up to see Edward holding them toward her, a kind smile on his face.

"My own pair," he murmured. "Sometimes the print gets a little small."

The glasses bobbed up and down before her as Edward silently urged her to take them.

Isabella cautiously took the glasses and put them on. They were crooked, and Edward gently adjusted them straight, earning a small smile from her as his fingertips lightly caressed over her ears and down her jaw, lingering just a moment.

"Better?" His voice was a little rougher than normal, and he cleared his throat.

Isabella looked down at her book. The print was more in focus…not perfect by any means, but better than without. She nodded and a thankful smile graced her face.

Perhaps Jasper knew where her spectacles had been placed. Edward would not tease her about her appearance while wearing them, of that she was certain. And why would he provide the means to read if he thought it an unfeminine pursuit?

"You are welcome. Emmett and I came in here to find something to translate into French. Any suggestions?"

She shook her head, not knowing what level her brother was at currently.

"Well, we shall soon be gone. Emmett, let's look over here."

Trying to appear casual, Isabella occasionally peered over the edges of the glasses to watch her brother and Edward quietly pull a book off the shelves, read a few lines, and then put the book back.

Emmett, bored at being inside, looked around the library, trying to find a means of escape and caught her looking in their direction. She immediately returned to her book, turning the page rapidly. He rolled his eyes before his attention was required to examine yet another text.

As Isabella read, she relaxed and completely immersed herself in the words. Soon, she was curled up in the chair, her legs crossed beneath her, shoes tossed off and stockinged toes peeping out from under her skirt.

If one looked too closely, a hint of lace trim from a petticoat could be spied, not that Mr. Masen had noticed. Oh, no. That slight, warm feeling that crept over him had to do with the stuffiness of closed windows on a sunny day. Certainly, that was the cause.

"You keep staring at my sister," Emmett finally said, tired of looking at one book and then another. In his mind, they should have been done long ago, and his frustrations grew.

"No, I'm not. I'm trying to find you a book."

"You've pulled out twenty-seven books already. And you haven't looked at a single one. Half of them have been upside down when you open them. Either talk to her or let's go."

Edward stared at the young boy, who at the moment, appeared much older and wiser than his years.

"It's not as simple as that," Edward whispered, hoping Isabella could not hear their conversation.

"Why not? When Mister Hale brings over his granddaughter, Rosalie, I have to talk to her. I'm told it's to be polite."

"It is a bit different when you are older."

"But you like my sister."

"Emmett, that is not quite a proper conversation topic."

Emmett shrugged. He was seven. He did not care about what was proper to talk about and what was not.

"Rosalie is older than me. She's almost eleven."

"Than _I_."

"What?"

"Rosalie is older than _I_."

"You're almost eleven?"

"No. 'Rosalie is older than _I_ ' is the correct way to say that."

Emmett waved the grammar lesson away.

"I think my sister might like you, too. She keeps following us around."

Edward thought back, and it did seem as though Isabella was often wherever the two of them might be. But she never followed just him.

"She is merely making sure I am teaching you properly."

"That is what you think?"

"It is."

Emmett paused and studied Edward as if reading the older man's soul before shaking his head in dismay.

"Grown-ups are clueless."

Emmett grabbed one last book and thrust it into Edward's hands before asking if he could be excused to play outside before supper. The request was granted, and he dashed off on a new adventure.

Edward shook his head as he watched the boy run away. A barely audible giggle caught his attention. He turned to see Isabella…Bella…trying to stifle her laughter.

"Find something humorous, Miss Swan?" he demanded with mock seriousness.

Her eyes widened, and she returned to the prim pose she had when they first entered the library. She shook her head in denial. Then she giggled and shrugged as she began to admit what had tickled her.

"Only that my brother hates grammar, regardless of the language. I found it humorous that he gave you what I believe is a wordless book."

Edward's eyes widened as he realized this was the most he had ever heard her speak and stared at her in silence.

Bella must have realized her verbosity for she blushed a delightful shade of pink before looking down at the closed book in her hands.

He quickly thumbed through the volume, and sure enough, the tome held nothing but sketches of flora and fauna. He did have to admire the cleverness of his young charge.

She quickly took off the glasses he had loaned her and folded them shut before taking the few steps to close the distance between them.

"Thank you, Master Masen. I shall try to find my own spectacles anon."

"Edward," he murmured, taking his glasses from her.

"Edward," she replied with a warm smile before remembering her expected behavior and with a quick bob of a curtsey, departed the library.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this is a bit late and a bit short—my FIL has been in the hospital with heart issues & we were unsure if we were coming or going. On the plus side, this chapter is entirely new (so if you got the charity piece this is from, you haven't read this before!)—and therefore, it's unbeta'd.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

As the late spring rains returned, Mr. Masen and Emmett continued to discover new and exciting places to explore within the walls of Swan Manor. Out of fear of being discovered and therefore teased by Mr. Hale, Isabella ceased following the two. That did not sate her curiosity and often she stopped by the nursery before bed, ostensibly to read a chapter or two to Emmett now that Jasper had found her spectacles. Frequently, her brother bubbled with excitement over the day's lessons and chattered non-stop until it was time for her to go without even cracking open a book.

Isabella envied the lessons and their methods for they were much more interesting than the stitchery and deportment ones she had received at that age at the insistence of her mother. Isabella sighed wistfully as she recalled misty memories of a woman she rarely saw when the two were under the same roof. Something told her Renee Swan would not have approved of Edward Masen's teaching methods so it was fortunate the woman was not present.

Confined to the indoors, Isabella often heard teacher and student bumping about as she conducted the day-to-day operations of the house. She missed knowing what and where and how they were doing, but it was her responsibility to manage the staff while her brother furthered his education, and she would not have it on her head to be a distraction to either.

One day, as she walked back to her father's office from the kitchen after a particularly scintillating discussion with Mrs. Alice over the imminent removal of mourning from the house, Isabella barely dodged a running Emmett. He laughed and skipped out of her way, spinning to prevent being tangled in her skirts.

"Emmett Dale McCarty Swan!" Isabella scolded, flattening herself against the wall.

His grin never faltered and after a quick salute, he rounded the corner with a heavy clomp of his boots.

She shook her head in dismay and turned only to collide with a running Mr. Masen. He quickly caught her around the waist and held her steady.

"Miss Swan!" Edward gasped eyes wide in shock at her presence. "Are you all right?"

Isabella took a moment to assess the situation. She had not expected nor heard anyone coming so his appearance completely shocked her. The force of the collision momentarily knocked the wind out of her as well, and she gulped lightly for air.

"Miss Swan? Isabella? Are you…" Edward grew more agitated as he waited for a response only to be silenced by her raising one hand.

"You surprised me, Mr. Masen. That is all."

Suddenly, both realized the tangle they presented. She stood flush against his chest, his strong arm surrounding her waist where he caught her. She caught a whiff of vanilla and tobacco from his aftershave and noticed a small spot on his jaw where the razor had missed that morning. The proximity struck, and she tried to step back only to find she could not.

"Will you fall if I let go?" he murmured.

The faint pink tinging the tips of his ears did not escape her notice, but she could not respond.

"Miss Swan? If I remove my arm, are you steady enough to stand on your own?"

"I…"

She was uncertain how to reply. Would she fall if he released his hold on her waist? Quite possibly. Her knees felt wobbly and for the life of her, she could not ascertain why.

Edward took matters into his own hands and gently released her, moving the arm around her waist to placing both hands on her elbows in an effort to ensure her balance. She stood on her own and was about to inquire as to why he was running when she noticed a bubbly, white powder covering his shirt and pants, accented by clumps of something sticky and gray.

"What happened to…" Isabella began before her voice trailed off, remembering her brother's mad dash down the hallway. "Emmett?"

She scowled at the notion of her brother destroying Mr. Masen's new suit after Mr. Hale had insisted upon its purchase.

 _An employee of Swan Manor must look and act the part with impeccability._

Isabella was unsure _impeccability_ was truly a word, but it sounded nice, and she understood what the older man had intended.

"Not entirely," Edward replied with a hint of a smile. "We built a volcano out of paper mache. I thought learning about the eruption at Krakatoa would be a good lesson. Geography, science. Maybe even write about our discovery. What boy does not like destroying things?"

He motioned to the mess on his clothes.

"I failed to allow ample time for the paper mache to dry in this weather before adding sodium bicarbonate and vinegar. I'm afraid Mr. Jasper is going to have our heads over the mess in the nursery. Amazing eruption, though."

Isabella fought back the smile at the twinkle in his eyes as he relayed what had happened.

"I would have enjoyed seeing that. It sounds quite amazing."

"You are more than welcome to observe at any time, Miss Swan."

"I…" She hesitated. "I don't want to be a distraction to Emmett."

Edward nodded. He completely understood her position.

He took a small step back and carefully looked up and down her person. Now it was her turn for her cheeks to redden as he studied her.

"I don't think I got any on you, Miss Swan."

"It would be of no consequence, Mr. Masen," she began before he suddenly gave a quick bow and mumbled an excuse and rounded the corner in pursuit of his charge.

Isabella watched in puzzled silence as he disappeared and shook her head before heading toward her original destination of her father's office, not knowing that Edward stood just around the corner, his back pressed to the wall, eyes clenched shut as he murmured curses to himself.

"Stupid, stupid, foolish…"

He had just blatantly ogled the woman of the house, albeit in an honest effort to ensure he had not ruined her dress, but no one would see it that way had they been witnessed. And this happened not a moment before he had held her tightly against his own body in a way too familiar for their relationship.

Edward blew out a loud sigh. Isabella Marie Swan would be the death of him. She was a beautiful eighteen year-old woman, fair skinned, rosy cheeks and lips, with dark brown hair pulled back with fat curls tumbling down over a black dress that accentuated her blossoming curves. He was her brother's tutor, and she was lady of the house. No amount of new clothes and fashionable haircut courtesy of his employ was going to ever change who he was inside or how he would be perceived by society.

 **Thank you, again, for reading!**

 **Just an FYI for my new(er) readers… 3 years ago, I did a short Valentine's Day story called Be Mine, Valentine. You can find it in my profile, if you'd like a little holiday treat!**


	7. Chapter 7

**New, unbeta'd stuff here, folks!**

Isabella slammed shut her latest book, tears welling up in her eyes. What a horrid, horrid story!

Curled up in her favorite reading chair before a comforting fire at midday, she should have been the epitome of peace and calm, but instead, the feeling of her heart being torn from her chest wracked her very being.

How dare the author do …

And to end it in such a way where …

Isabella leaped to her feet and began to pace. Every few steps, she opened the book and read, willing with all of her might that the words would miraculously change and the couple would be reunited and have their happily ever after. Or at the very least, they talk about their feelings for one another and present the why they could not be together.

She could accept heartbreak. She could rationalize a couple being kept apart.

But this, this she could not bear. No resolution at all pricked her to the core.

The main characters danced around each other for the rest of their lives, never acknowledging their feelings for one another and thereby hurt everyone around them who knew of their attraction.

How maudlin!

Edward heard mutterings floating down the hallway from the library as he made his way from the kitchen to the classroom. Someone was greatly upset, and he went to peek into the room to offer comfort. His steps quickened as he heard a frustrated growl and something being thrown.

He never expected to discover Isabella staring into the fireplace.

"Miss Swan?"

Isabella did not respond, rather, she sniffled quietly as she stared at a book as it merrily burned.

His eyes widened at the sight, knowing her love of the written word. Why, it was just the day before when her monthly delivery from the book seller arrived. She had been giddy, nearly dancing through the foyer to where Jasper held the delivery. The older man smiled indulgently as he cut the strings that held the package together and presented it to her.

"Miss Swan, are you…"

Oh, God, yes. She was crying.

Had it been his sister, he would have wrapped one arm around her shoulder, provided his handkerchief, and let her sob until she was ready to talk. After a time, she would have felt better and moved on.

None of that seemed appropriate at the moment, especially since Isabella pulled a small piece of lace-trimmed cotton from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes.

"She didn't like how the story ended," Emmett offered in a matter-of-fact tone.

Both Isabella and Edward looked up to discover the boy sitting atop the mantle as comfortably as if it were a pile of pillows.

"What are you doing up there, Emmett?" Edward asked. The mantle was at least seven feet off the ground, and he feared the lad might injure himself upon his descent, much less how in the world he got up there in the first place.

"I like it up here." Emmett shrugged as if it was nothing to be where he was. Then he motioned toward his sister who was trying to make a discrete exit.

She froze when she realized the others were watching her. Silently, Isabella straightened, removing her spectacles and held them in her hands.

"She got a new book yesterday. Mario and Isobel were married in secret. Then her family found out and then they were not married. Later, he married Joanna, and they were going to have a baby. But even though he loved Isobel, but she couldn't be with him because he had been with someone else so she was going to be alone for the rest of her days."

Isabella felt her cheeks redden as her younger brother repeated almost verbatim her rantings from a few moments before. She vowed to check high and low in the future just in case her brother was lurking about.

"And it upset her enough she threw the book into the fire."

"Because they wouldn't talk to each other! She mopes about wishing he were hers, but they never talk. She just watches him and his new wife, whom he hates, and never does anything about it," Isabella ranted, her voice getting louder and louder with each word.

Edward opened his mouth to interject, but Isabella continued.

"It was one thing that they were torn apart. It was one thing that he was forced to marry another. It was one thing that his new wife got him drunk and they…"

Her voice trailed off because she suddenly realized she was about to reveal details she truly did not wish to discuss in front of her brother's tutor, much less, her own brother.

And memories of the racier scenes, words she had never read in quite that way before, flooded her mind. Now, she certainly could not look Edward or Emmett in the face.

"Made a baby, yes, I understand," Emmett said in a very bored voice. "Just like Aro and Caius and Marcus have done with Heidi, Eliza, Angelica, and Peggy."

In his seven-year-old mind, the mechanics of sex were nothing more than what he had seen in the horse lot. It was merely a function of nature with no strings attached.

Edward's eyes widened at the list of names.

"Our horses," Isabella murmured, unable to meet his eyes. She was hoping and praying that the floor would open and she could fall in and hide. She was truly mortified.

"Sissy, you always said books were precious things," Emmett said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

"I know," she sighed. "I just … I couldn't … I cannot believe the book seller sent me that abomination thinking I would enjoy it!"

"You could always rewrite the ending. Or write a final chapter to the story," Edward suggested gently.

Isabella turned to look at her brother's tutor.

"Create your own ending to the story?" he continued.

She pondered for a moment, trying to figure out how she what she would have changed. He could see her considering the possibilities and a little of the light that normally shone in her eyes returned.

"It would give you a certain level of satisfaction knowing that the characters finally settled their differences even if a romantic solution is impossible. And write the shop to let them know you would appreciate not receiving any more titles where the main characters do not resolve their differences or have such drastic lack of communication."

"Like some people around here," Emmett muttered.

Isabella and Edward whirled around toward the mantle only to see Emmett scrambling down the last foot of the pillar holding up the mantle, landing with a clump before them.

"What do you mean?" Isabella asked gently, unsure where her brother was going with his comment.

Emmett looked between the two of them before pretending to lock his mouth and shook his head. Without another word, he left the couple in confused silence.

 **Thank you, again, for reading! Funny story tidbit—the book Isabella reads was actually a nightmare I had this week. DH was very worried when I woke up with a broken heart.**

 **I spent a large amount of time this weekend doing review replies—I can never express how humbled I am that you are enjoying this story and let me know with your reviews.**

 **My FIL is doing better—went home then back to the hospital then back home. Hopefully, his heart will stay in rhythm now.**

 **See you Monday!**

 **I am a judge for the We Love Mobward contest, so if you've ever thought of writing, now is a great chance! Submissions start March 8** **th** **. I can't wait to be a reader!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Monday! (If I keep telling myself that, maybe I'll believe it…)**

Today was the day. Swan House officially ended its time of mourning. It had been six months since Master Swan had passed and the house staff quickly and efficiently swept away any trace of black crepe, packing it securely away for what all hoped to be a long, long time.

Isabella supervised the activities, content with the ending of closed drapes and black clothing. However, she was reticent over the fact Master Hale had informed her that no less than a score of gentleman callers were not-so-patiently awaiting Swan House's reopening. A low, drawn-out groan escaped her lips at the thought. Many of the callers-in-waiting she had met before at parties and social gatherings and not a one interested her. In fact, most of the local gentlemen bored her to tears.

Little Rosalie Hale's birthday was quickly approaching, and Mr. Hale had informed Isabella that a carnival-themed party was being planned. Callers would be lining up to invite Miss Swan to accompany them to the event. She would have to pick one, but the only man she knew she would not find a complete and utter bore showed no interest in anything other than tutoring her brother.

Or so she thought.

It was what he had been hired to do, so Isabella bore Edward no ill will although her ego was more than pricked at the notion.

Not that she cared.

Nope.

Not one whit.

Even she knew she was lying in this internal debate.

Isabella had taken Edward's advice about writing her own ending to the horrid novel the bookseller had sent and after a few wadded-up pages, she had developed her own ending. Isobel and Marco were never reunited as a couple, but each was allowed their own satisfactory resolution. She married someone else, someone who perfectly matched her in wit and intelligence, and he continued to be ordered around by his wife and father.

Through the writing exercise, Isabella realized communication was vital should a relationship succeed and grew a little braver each time in her interactions with Mr. Masen. He was always polite and appeared to enjoy their interactions, but she just could not be certain he thought of her as anything other than lady of the house and thereby untouchable.

Another groan, louder and more pained than the first, escaped her throat.

"Are you feeling well, Miss Swan?" Edward inquired, entering the foyer where she stood as the crepe wrapped around the door knocker was removed.

Isabella nodded a little too quickly and a little too fervently. He was not convinced and asked again, innocently closing the distance between them.

Edward studied her closely, looking for any reason to call a doctor or alert the rest of the house that its lady did not feel up to accepting visitors.

"Master Horatio said I should expect callers." Her low voice was almost lost in the room.

Edward's brow creased with concern.

"Are you not feeling well and wish not to be bothered? Should I call someone to…"

She shook her head.

"Physically, I am quite fine. Thank you." Taking a deep breath before continuing, she set her shoulders and straightened. "I do not wish to find myself as a prize, seeking to be won. I know I am not worthy of the attention other than that drawn by the sum of my father's accounts, and…"

"Oh, you are more than worthy, Miss Swan. A woman such as yourself with your quick mind and wit should have no issue finding a proper husband. One who appreciates a good debate and fine mind, not to mention an attractive figure and your beauty and…"

Isabella stared at Edward with wide eyes as his voice dropped off when he realized he had stepped over the lines of propriety. Her heart beat a little faster. Perhaps she had been wrong in thinking he did not find her worthy of attention.

"I do apologize, Miss Swan. My words were inappropriate and…"

"Did you mean them?" she interrupted.

"Of course. But that does not excuse…"

Isabella waved him off.

"I would rather be courted by a single, honest working man than a thousand silver-tongued upperclassmen, Master Masen."

He watched in dumbfounded silence as she turned toward the receiving room.

"I will be enjoying some of Alice's biscuits and a good cup of tea … Edward. If you would like to join me, you would be more than welcome. Perhaps I can show you how I wrote my own ending to that horrible, horrible piece of fiction."

Edward gawped in silence while watching the gentle sway of her skirts as she departed. It did not take him long to make a decision, and he followed her into the receiving room.

From another room, two men watched the interaction, unbeknownst by the young, soon-to-be couple.

"I do believe you may tell any callers that Miss Swan is not entertaining courters at the moment," Horatio said with just a hint of smugness.

"I do believe you are correct, Master Hale," Jasper replied, reaching into his coat pocket for a coin which he then held out.

"Give that to your wife. She's the one who urged me to place that wager."

Jasper merely shook his head, smiling at how well his Alice knew people and their character from the moment they first met.

"A true port for them both," the butler said with a nod before excusing himself to inform the staff that no gentlemen callers were to be accepted until further notice.

If at all.

 **And this where the original story I contributed to Fandoms against Domestic Violence ended. Many thanks to Gail/Gabby for pre-reading and Fran for beta-ing. Just because the donation time for such a worthy cause is over, don't let that stop you from supporting it!**

 **I will be continuing the story just a bit…not much, but we do need to find out what the rest of their story is, don't we?**

 **I am a judge for the We heart Mobward contest, so please write! I love reading just as much as I do writing! Fran has been posting some super fabulous writing prompts, so go check out the Facebook page and let the words start flowing!**

 **If you reviewed for the last chapter, I didn't have time to do replies (traveling to see FIL who is doing much better, tyvm!), but I will get to them this week!**

 **Besos!**

 **DeJean**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for your patience and understanding at the delay for this chapter—I'm applying and interviewing for jobs and on top of that, yesterday was the anniversary of my dad's passing so I have a few traditions that have to be kept up which lead me away from home & computer.**

 **But here we are!**

Rosalie Hale's eleventh birthday arrived and per her request, a carnival party was set up on her grandfather's property. Games, entertainments, and refreshments spread out on tables under canvas tents bedecked in pink and white flowers and silver tulle set Master Hale back a pretty penny, but it was an expense he shouldered gladly. Rosalie was an only child of only children in families that adored them.

In addition, not to waste any excuse for a party, once the children were worn out and toted home, the grounds would be lit by hundreds of torches and merriment for the adults would commence. Hale functions were well known for their lavish generosity and entertainment.

Today, the weather gods had blessed the community with warm breezes and bright skies. 'Twould be a spectacular day for festivities and the buzz over who would be accompanied by whom livened up many a gossiper's conversation.

Isabella Swan and her best friend, Angela Cheney, sat under the portico, ostensibly to work on finalizing plans for the church's distribution of clothing to the less fortunate before changing clothes and attending the adult-oriented festivities, but after months of absence, Angela was happy to gab about other things.

And to show off a little.

A gentle breeze ruffled an errant lock of hair and Isabella absentmindedly brushed it back.

"Will Benjamin be alright?" she asked, looking hesitantly over her shoulder at a small box.

"He will sleep just fine," Angela replied with a serene smile.

Motherhood truly suited her, and her newborn son had so far been blessed with both of his parents' temperaments—calm, happy, and even.

"It seems like it has been forever and a day since we've been able to do this," Angela continued, turning back to her friend. "You look … happy."

Isabella nodded. She was content. She still missed her father dreadfully, but with each passing day, the pain ebbed just a little bit more.

And there was her budding relationship with Edward. If one could truly call it that. She could now say his name without feeling her cheeks flush.

"You're blushing!"

Well, so much for that theory, Isabella sighed to herself.

"I am not."

"Liar."

Angela grinned and scooted her chair closer, nearly knocking over the tea table set between them. She giggled as the china rattled and then settled.

"So, tell me all about it. What has gotten you in such a state?"

"I am not in as you put it 'such a state.'"

"Hmmm…."

Isabella shook her head, but her smile revealed more than she would have liked.

"You've got a beau!" Angela accused, her voice raising in pitch and earning a squeak from where her son lay.

Her features immediately became apologetic, and she tried to calm herself, but her joy radiated out uncontrollably.

"Tell me about him!"

"We haven't declared ourselves as anything," Isabella insisted.

"Bella…" Angela dragged out her friend's name.

"It's Emmett's tutor." Her face turned bright red as she remembered when she invited him to tea right after all evidence of mourning for her father had been removed from Swan Manor.

 _She stood next to the tea service, adjusting the position of first the cream and then the sugar bowl, nearly knocking a biscuit off the tray. Her heart pounded frantically as if it would bounce out of her chest. What had she been thinking, inviting her brother's tutor to tea? What if he felt no attraction toward her? No. There had been enough interactions that confirmed he was._

 _Isabella knew Edward had a soft spot for Alice's baked goods and had hoped mentioning them would entice him to join her if nothing else succeeded. The way to a man's heart after all…_

 _It had worked._

 _Moments later, she heard the door creak as if it were partially closed and then reopened._

 _Isabella turned to see Edward standing just inside the receiving room, his back to her._

" _I thought about closing the door to prevent Emmett from seeing us, but then thought propriety would prefer we not be behind closed doors," Edward murmured, turning to face her._

 _Isabella mutely nodded before motioning invitingly toward a seat and picking up the pot. Her hands shook too much to pour so he did, mentioning how rare such a thing had been while he finished his studies. She noticed his hands trembled just a bit as well._

 _The two talked, somewhat awkwardly at times, for over an hour, enjoying every last crumb of tea. She retold her attempt at rewriting the end of the horrible tale of Marco and Isobel, earning a laugh at how she had thrown away several sheets of paper with more crossed out text than legible words. At the end, Edward formally asked if Isabella would accompany him to Mr. Hale's party, and she had accepted._

"Emmett's tutor? Isn't he … old?" Angela's query brought Isabella's thoughts back to the present.

Angela knew Isabella's father had hired a man just before he left on the business venture from which he never returned. She had heard the tutor possessed decades of experience and a good reputation, but the potential age difference startled her.

"What?" Isabella was momentarily confused before realizing what her friend must have postulated. "Oh, no. Edward's father broke his leg and could not fulfil his contract. Having just completed his studies, he took Edward senior's place."

Angela hummed, looking out over the yard, deep in thought before turning back to her friend.

"So, tell me all about him."

Isabella launched into a lively discussion of Edward's intelligence, his ability to understand Emmett and all the quirks that made up the boy, and examples of his alternative teaching style. Angela nodded and interjected her approval at the appropriate time, all the while watching her friend's face. It was clear Isabella was smitten with the young man.

"…And we have met for tea almost every day ever since."

Isabella watched Angela for any signs of disapproval, pleased that she found none yet nervous, for her friend's countenance remained a blank slate.

"And would that be him?" Angela finally spoke, motioning toward a gentleman approaching with young Emmett in tow.

Isabella sat a little straighter in her chair, adjusting her skirts and picking off an invisible bit of lint, a sweet smile gracing her lips.

"I would take that as a 'yes'," Angela giggled. She knew that look Isabella wore for she often sported the same when her beloved appeared.

"Behave," Isabella hissed, trying to keep a happy look while sounding serious.

"He is quite handsome."

"Shush!"

Isabella didn't disagree, but she did not want Angela's voice to carry.

The two watched as Edward motioned toward a group of rosebushes and carefully clipped off a group of young blooms. Although they could not hear the conversation, it was evident he was showing Emmett something as he nipped off any thorns and wrapped a clean handkerchief around the end before the two approached the portico where the women sat.

"Afternoon, Miss Bella," Edward said formally, not missing the raised eyebrow he received from her friend. "I was showing Emmett how to properly dress a few roses when presenting them to someone you care about."

"And does Mr. Emmett care for Miss Rosalie?" Angela teased.

"I don't hate her. That's all," Emmett grumped, already bothered that he was required to dress up for a carnival he was currently missing.

"I think it is quite kind of you to trim off the thorns," Isabella replied just as Edward presented her with a small sprig of flowers of her own.

She took them with a sweet smile of thanks.

"Shouldn't you already be at the party?"

"We were," Edward said, eyeing his young charge suspiciously. "But someone forgot Miss Rosalie's present."

"I see. So you returned to retrieve it."

Emmett nodded and looked up to Edward who gave a quick nod. At receiving permission, the boy ran into the house lest he miss more of the party than absolutely necessary.

"I would not have been so terrible if I had not left gift atop his trousers," Edward said with a sigh, watching the child disappear up the stairs.

"So the flowers?" Angela inquired, motioning to the small bunch Edward still held.

"An apology for missing the opening of gifts."

"I don't think Rosalie will mind," Isabella added for she knew the girl liked trinkets and any additions, no matter the timing, would be greatly appreciated.

"No, and it gave me an extra opportunity to see you."

For a moment the couple appeared to completely forget Angela's presence and just enjoy being near one another. They more than likely would have continued had Benjamin not begun howling in his box.

"Ah, seems like someone needs a change," Angela mused, recognizing the cry immediately. She rose and quickly gathered her son and disappeared into the house.

"Would you care to sit?" Isabella inquired, motioning to the newly emptied chair.

"I'm certain the second I did, Emmett would appear."

She nodded, knowing he was more than likely correct.

"Thank you for the roses. I might find a comb and wear them tonight. They would be lovely with my dress."

She held up the spray over her right ear and looked up for his approval.

Edward silently took the roses and bent down to hold them over her left side.

"This side, please."

She looked up at him, confused at what he was asking and why.

"In some cultures, flowers over your right ear mean you are available, Miss Bella," he murmured softly, leaning closer to whisper into her ear. "Left means you are spoken for."

His fingers lightly traced down her cheek to her jaw.

Before she could respond, the clomp of elephant-like shoes through the hall echoed out onto the portico, and Emmett burst through the door, clutching a small silk bag.

"I've got it," he gasped between huffs of breath. "Let's go!"

The boy grabbed Edward's hand and dragged him off. Isabella watched as the two trotted over the yard toward the Hale estate. Her thoughts were interrupted by Angela's soft laugh.

"What?" she demanded, spinning in her chair to see her friend rocking her son in her arms.

She softened ever so slightly, wondering if that was what her life had in store for her.

"It seems that you and I have quite a bit to talk about, Miss Bella," Angela replied with a wicked grin.

 **Next week, it's carnival time and Edward and Isabella go public with their relationship.**

 **Thank you so much for your continued support. I treasure each and every one of you.**

 **DeJean**

 **P.S. Have you seen the stories posted so far for the Mobward contest? I'm a judge, and I can tell you, it's going to be a difficult choice!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Time for the disclaimer…characters are not mine, plot is. This chapter is completely unbeta-ed.**

 **Apologies at the end…**

Isabella thought her cheeks would never return to their normal, porcelain tone, never mind her ears, forehead, throat, or fingertips. She was certain every, last inch of her skin was flushed with embarrassment.

 _It seems that you and I have quite a bit to talk about, Miss Bella._

Angela's words had been so simple, and Isabella had assumed her friend meant they would catch up on all of the goings on in each other's lives that they had missed out on once Angela had given birth to her son. But that notion quickly took flight as her friend pulled her chair even closer to where Isabella sat, draped a light cover over herself as her son fed, and proceeded to inform Isabella of all things relational between a man and a woman.

In frank detail. From courtship and the proper etiquette for that to the marriage bed, not a topic was omitted and no word minced. Isabella was certain her eyes would pop out of their sockets at some of the possibilities her friend revealed.

Angela had married a kind man, a loving man. It was truly a love match, but neither of them had any experience beyond what they learned together. Nevertheless, both were curious students and quite thorough in their explorations.

Isabella was uncertain she could not attend Sunday services with quite the same sort of reverence as before now that she had this knowledge, especially when Vicar Cheney would eventually stand before the congregation and call them to prayer.

She peered at her reflection in the mirror and groaned as her face reddened even more before her very eyes.

Yet, there was a part of her, deep down, that appreciated the one-sided discussion. Her mother had vanished from her life when she was around twelve years old and never once educated her in the physical changes a girl's body goes through, much less the emotional ones. Isabella had been certain she was dying of a bleeding disease like those mentioned in the Bible when her monthly courses had begun, and had it not been for Alice finding the stained sheets before they went into the washtub, she might still believe so.

Renee Higgenbotham Swan, the spoiled, only child of an established and titled family, rarely saw beyond her own needs and desires, frequently mentioning how she gave up so much to be married off to a wealthy merchant when truth be told, her parents had barely two farthings to rub together and a manor house virtually toppling down around them. When Charles Swan happened to visit their little part of the world, he fell in love with Renee's beauty and was charmed by her grace. The Higgenbothams were more than happy to marry off their daughter in exchange for remuneration to escape their current situation. They even handed over the deed to their dilapidated home before scurrying off to London before the ink was dry on the marriage declaration, something Renee never forgave.

A quiet rap at the door brought her attention back to the present, and Isabella called permission for her guest to enter.

Alice carefully pushed through the doorway, carrying a small tray with tea and a light repast.

"Mr. Hale's parties seem to start later and later," the older woman said, placing the tray carefully on a table near the window. "I thought you might appreciate a little something before you and Mr. Masen head off. Can't have you getting any more lightheaded than… "

Alice paused, noticing the far-away look in Isabella's eyes. She recognized it as one the young woman often fell back into when she was thinking, pondering something that required intense concentration.

"Are you alright, Isabella?"

She nodded, trying to clear her head.

"I am just thinking about this afternoon."

"Did you enjoy your visit with Mrs. Cheney? Her little one is the spitting image of his father at that age. And such a quiet baby!"

Alice beamed as she prepared a cup of tea and waited for Isabella to take a seat before handing it to her.

"Did it give you baby fever?" the older woman continued, handing over a delicate, embroidered napkin and waiting to see if Isabella needed anything.

"Baby fever?"

"The uncontrollable desire to have one of your very own. Mr. Jasper and myself were never blessed with children, but we had fun trying!"

Isabella gasped just as she took a sip of tea, causing it to go down her windpipe, and she began to cough violently.

"Oh, dearest me," Alice fussed, patting Isabella on the back. "I didn't mean to…"

Isabella waved to silence the housekeeper and quickly regained her ability to breathe.

"It's nothing, Mrs. Alice. Just after Angela's visit, I am a bit on edge with that line of conversation. Mother never took the time to explain just what happens when a man and woman are …" She looked around as if to ensure no small ears were present before whispering, "Together."

"Ah. I see. Well, I am sure Mrs. Cheney informed you that every couple is different. She and Vicar grew up knowing each other. He'd chased her almost since they began to crawl. That makes a horse of a different color to you and Mr. Masen. Your mother and Mr. Charles, they barely said three words before the 'I do.' Not that you and Master Emmett aren't a true blessing, but I am almost certain your father would have taken the first train back to the coast had he been much around your mother beforehand."

It was no secret among the household that Mrs. Swan and Mrs. Alice often had words on how things should be run. Charles deferred to Mrs. Alice more often than not because he understood and appreciated her practicality while his wife tended to be more of a it-should-be-so-because-I-say-it-is.

She picked up the plate with a neatly cut sandwich and offered it. Isabella noticed it was her favorite and smiled appreciatively as she took one section.

"You two have to learn about each other, and what you want from the relationship. If you're blessed with it being a match, so be it. If you discover nasty little bits like he kicks dogs or some such, then you can have Mr. Hale fire him and out the door he'll go."

Alice giggled at Isabella's properly horrified face at the notion that Edward was an abuser of animals.

"I think I like him," Isabella murmured. "And I think he is interested in me."

Alice's eyes fell on the hair comb Isabella had attached the spray of rosebuds Edward had given her by wrapping it in golden threads.

"Your father made sure you and your brother would be able to court whomever you wanted. If he is who you want, you are of an age to make that decision. And you will always have a place to go if you need one."

Isabella instantly thought of a distant cousin, a tale most of the community knew and whispered about. Esme had married a man with a renowned-for temper. She finally reached the end of her patience and left him only to discover she was no longer welcomed at home. For a time, she lived at Swan House and Isabella loved having her around. After Esme's husband had been found dead in a brothel, she returned to manage his affairs and started her own business. Word was, the doctor that had once treated her for a broken leg was currently courting her, and Esme had never been happier.

"You know how a lady should act, and based off what I've seen- And have you ever known me to be wrong? Mr. Edward knows how a gentleman should be," Alice said finally.

She dusted her hands on her apron before smiling at the blossoming young woman before her.

"I certainly know he'd be off his chump to ignore such a beauty as you."

Now Isabella blushed for an entirely different reason.

A light rap at the door called their attention around.

Jasper stepped into the room and formally announced Mr. Masen was awaiting downstairs and that the Phaeton was hitched to Peggy per her request. With a nervous smile, Isabella tugged on her gloves before gathering her retinue and fan. She made one last look into the mirror, earning a praise from Mrs. Alice before hurrying to the stairs.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, Isabella stopped short, collected herself, and began to descend slowly to where Edward waited.

She was certain, she had never seen a more handsome man in all of her life, especially after his face broke into a wide smile at her appearance.

Edward held out his hand to assist her down the last two steps.

"You are a true vision, Miss Isabella," he murmured, placing a light kiss on the back of her hand before releasing it.

"Thank you, Mr. Masen."

Isabella took her light wrap from Mrs. Alice who had followed her to the main entrance and thanked her before the two boarded the Phaeton and departed Swan House for the Hale property and an evening of merriment.

 **So….I had planned for the couple to get to the party and to post last week, but 1) NCAA men's basketball (I'm a Tarheel). 2) DD2 got sick complete with 104 degree fever and everything. Fortunately, it was a sinus infection and is now on the mend, but that was two days of being nursemaid. 3) I was a drama mama—DD1 was in Fiddler on the Roof & I was helping out with Hell Week for that on top of having family come down to see the play. And finally, 4) I got sick. I'm on day four of pollen haze. I don't trust myself to write too much under the influence of Sudafed.**

 **Therefore, it might be two weeks before the next update, but I will do my best to make it sooner rather than later.**

 **Thank you!**

 **DeJean**


	11. Chapter 11

**My Tarheels won! My Tarheels won! Whoo hoo! *sings 'Hark the sound'***

 **This story is mine, characters are hers.**

The Phaeton was not the most elaborate of the Swan carriages, but it was Isabella's favorite. She loved the open view it allowed as one rode through the countryside, but as the couple left the grounds of Swan House and journeyed toward the Hale lands, Isabella fretted silently.

She had never attended an event with a suitor. Last year, her father had accompanied her to Mr. Hale's and escorted her to the amusements, discouraging any young man who dared approach with a huff and a glare, and she had not minded one bit. While others might be setting their eyes upon a husband at seventeen, she had not, and to be honest, a fair number of the local gentlemen held no appeal. Most preferred to boast about the size of their pockets or recent acquisitions of property rather than discuss anything of intellectual merit. She found it boorish and rude and as a result, a few of her contemporaries tolerated her presence with barely veiled contempt.

Now at eighteen, a few months away from her next birthday, she sat next to a learned man, her brother's teacher, who often made her laugh with his quick wit and easy charm and even infuriated her a time or two with his ability to turn around her logic. Edward never gave any reason to believe he was attracted to her father's wealth which was a welcome change from many of the local gentlemen. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she, not for the first time, wished her father were available to talk through how she felt.

Isabella's mind wandered back to Angela's lessons earlier in the day. While she appreciated the candor, it was overwhelming to have so many images piled into her brain. She had never been kissed nor had the desire to do so before Mr. Masen's arrival, but now she pondered how it would happen, how it would feel.

She stole a quick glance over at the man beside her who kept his eyes on the road, skillfully directing Peggy down the road. As if he knew she were watching, Edward winked, his lips turning up into a faint smile. Isabella felt her cheeks redden as she imagined him leaning over to steal a quick kiss before they reached the Hale estate.

Images of Edward's back in his bath and that picture were etched permanently into her memory, and she wondered if the man felt as strong and unyielding as he looked. Not that she had much experience, but Isabella felt he had to be the most handsome man in the community.

Would he offer his arm as they enjoyed the evening or would they simply walk side-by-side? Would he, perhaps, introduce himself as Emmett's tutor or as her escort? Would Lauren Mallory or Jessica Stanley try to steal him away?

"Are you having second thoughts?" Edward murmured, his eyes remaining forward as he held Peggy's reins.

"I…" She stuttered, trying to collect her thoughts. "I am not certain I know what you mean."

He pulled the reins and waited until Peggy and the Phaeton came to a complete stop before turning to face her. In the twilight, she was not certain of his emotions, but she could tell he carefully measured his words before speaking.

"When we first left your home, you sat upright, straight and proud. Now, as we draw nearer to the party, you are more huddled. Ashamed."

"I am not ashamed," she responded quickly, sitting up a little straighter.

He paused before responding with, "Are you certain?"

"Unequivocally. Any woman would be proud to be accompanied by you."

"I don't wish merely to accompany you, Isabella. I do not want to be your chaperone. I wish to be your suitor. I desire to take your dance card and fill in every slot with _my_ name, should there be dancing. I crave being with you, showing any potential gentleman caller that you are spoken for." Edward paused, watching her intently for any reaction, ignorant at how fast her heart beat at his words. "And that is why I have requested to be moved out of the house."

"Moved out?"

Isabella felt the panic building in her chest. Was he leaving Emmett?

"As Emmett's tutor, it is completely proper for me to be in the house. Now, it is not. The lines are blurred. I do not wish to excuse myself from continuing to teach Emmett. Therefore, Mr. Hale has arranged for an older servant's quarters to be cleaned up and my belongings moved there."

"You went to…"

"He has given our courtship his blessing. It appears your father specifically requested you and Emmett be allowed to choose your suitors. Something about your mother."

Isabella nodded. She had learned bits and pieces about her parents' marriage and how unhappy Renee had been, to the point that when her son first showed signs of being 'odd,' she packed up her belongings and departed in the middle of the night with not so much as a fare-the-well. As a result, Charles Swan made it his life's goal to ensure both of his children could wed whomever they chose and always have a place to come home to should the marriage fail.

"So, you are not leaving?" she asked quietly.

"Not unless you send me away, Isabella."

She straightened in her seat, a slow smile gracing her lips.

"Then let us enjoy our evening … Edward."

At the sound of his name coming from her, Edward grinned broadly and lightly struck the reins to get Peggy's attention and the two rode in happy silence to the Hale estate.

Upon their arrival, a valet took hold of Peggy's harness and steadied the Phaeton as Edward disembarked first and offered his hand to assist Isabella as she followed suit. The majority of the guests were already enjoying the festivities, fine food and drink, and games of chance. A small placard informed the attendees that at ten o'clock, fireworks would set above the west lawn.

"Shall we _fait une promenade_?" Edward asked, offering his arm as he motioned toward the games.

Her response was a wide grin, and she laced her arm through his. He did not know how much she loved hearing him speak in other languages—the way his voice lowered just a little, the timbre deepening and how his eyes seemed to sparkle just a little more.

Or maybe he did.

During their first pass around the gaming area, Isabella learned that she was much better at the disk bowling game than Edward. She watched him slide the smooth, wooden puck across the table to knock down the pins, always leaving a few standing.

"You do know the surface has intentional faults," she whispered after his failed attempt to win a prize.

Isabella pulled him to the side as another couple tried their luck. Edward bent down to allow her to whisper in his ear, one hand on her waist to steady himself.

"Watch where the red marks are."

Sure enough, when the disk slid over the red paint, it lifted ever so slightly and changed course.

"It's distraction by calling attention to the spot. You do not expect it to be anything more than a decoration," she continued in a soft voice, causing him to move so close her lips almost brushed against his ear.

Edward felt a sense of pride that she noticed such detail and was even more impressed when Isabella took her turn and managed to knock down all of the pins by banking the disk off the side walls.

"We have a winner!" the man running the game announced loudly, causing several people to turn and watch as he presented Isabella with a gaudy broach made of brightly colored feathers. She proudly took the offered prize and pinned it to her shoulder.

Edward offered to procure a celebratory drink and after finding a seat for them, hurried off.

Isabella sat, basking in her victory, fluffing the feathers and ribbons now attached to her dress, with a smile on her face. Realizing there was writing on the center disk, she removed the pin and pulled out her glasses to examine it further.

"Really, Isabella," came a high-pitched scolding.

"Most certainly! Really, Isabella."

She took a deep breath, recognizing the voices.

"Just look at her, Jessica. You would think she would have learned that she would never fetch a husband with such horrendous spectacles."

"Yes, yes. I completely agree with you, Lauren. Absolutely atrocious."

Isabella took a deep breath, her eyes closed as she silently removed her glasses and returned them to her retinue. With a forced smile, she looked up at the squawking biddies before her.

"We are only looking out for you, Isabella," Lauren simpered, sliding into the seat next to her.

Isabella restrained herself from rolling her eyes only to find herself squashed between Lauren and Jessica as the latter forced her way onto the bench.

"Been gaining since your father's funeral?" Jessica hissed, giving Lauren a look while shaking her head in mock-pity. "Really, Isabella. We three used to fit on this bench quite easily."

"We were six," Isabella muttered, looking around anxiously for Edward.

"There is nothing wrong with maintaining a girlish figure," Lauren replied, straightening her skirts.

"And men want someone to take care of, to protect. You are never going to lure someone in if you frighten them off just by opening your mouth," Jessica agreed, shaking her head enthusiastically.

"I know, heavens blessings, that you have very little in the way of appearance to work with, Isabella, but you must not use those horrid spectacles when someone might see you. It is uncomely."

"I can't see to read with…" Isabella began.

"Read? Who wants a wife that reads all the time? Honestly, Isabella. You are already seventeen…"

"Eighteen," she corrected.

Jessica and Lauren shared a look of pity between themselves. Poor, young thing. Already approaching spinsterhood without a single gentleman caller.

"You'll never catch a husband…" began Lauren before Isabella threw up a hand to cut her off.

"Like you two did? Has Michael been released from jail, yet, Lauren? What were the charges? Oh, yes. Selling stolen property. And has Eric sobered up enough to even attend tonight's festivities?"

With each word, spoken softly so that no one other than the three could hear, Isabella sat straighter, her voice growing sterner and more confident.

She realized she did not care what others thought. Charles had given her and Emmett the most wonderful gift imaginable, the ability to choose who she wanted to be with and even provided an out. Lauren, Jessica, and other ladies of their ilk were trapped with nowhere to go and no means to live should they escape.

"Malicious gossip!" Lauren cried, calling attention to the three. As soon as she realized others were watching, she smiled sweetly and acted as if Isabella had revealed something about someone else.

"How dare you!" she continued, hissing lowly. "You know nothing of…"

"You forget my father and the constable are … were close friends. William stops by every few days to make sure Emmett and I are well," Isabella said with a calm shrug.

"I apologize for the delay," Edward interrupted unintentionally, returning with two glasses of lemonade. "There was quite the line."

Jessica and Lauren did little to hide their dropped jaws at the sight of the handsome man before them. Who was he and where did he come from, they wondered, looking back and forth from themselves to the Edward.

Isabella jumped to her feet, nearly toppling the other two off the bench.

"But you are here now," she said with a smile, earning one back.

Isabella took a glass and murmured her thanks as she took a sip.

Edward looked a touch uncomfortable. Proper decorum said he should hand over the second glass to one of the two ladies rather than enjoy it himself, but he had no idea to whom he should present it.

"Do not fret, Edward. Jessica and Lauren are sour enough without adding to the mix," Isabella said sweetly, taking his hand and leading him away, paying no mind to the glares they received.

"I take it you have had words with them before?" Edward murmured as the two strolled through the rest of the gaming area.

"We have a long history of berating and condemnation. I would rather not talk about them."

Isabella held her head high as approached the pitching game where a wildly colored face with an open mouth gawped at them, silently begging for a ball to be thrown through the wide lips.

Edward studied her for a moment, recognizing a look he had often seen on his mother. Silent stubbornness. No amount of his cajoling would force her to tell him what had occurred between the three women so he decided to bide his time and wait for her to choose when and what she wanted him to know.

He took the offered baseball from the attendant and held it out to her.

"Perhaps you would like to take a little frustration out?"

Isabella paused before laughing loudly, immediately embarrassed by her own guffaws. Her hands covered her mouth as she continued to giggle.

"You have obviously never seen me attempt to throw," she said with a titter. "It would be taking the life of anyone and everyone around into jeopardy."

"Not good?" Edward said with a smile, recognizing her good humor returning.

"Not in the slightest."

"Then let me give it a go."

Isabella stood back as Edward pitched three balls perfectly into the mouth, earning a loud cheer from the few gathered around. She blushed slightly as he was awarded a wide sash proclaiming him champion and laughed as he put it on proudly. Never before had she enjoyed herself so much, and she believed he was having as good if not better of a time, accepting handshake congratulations from most of the gentlemen they passed on their way to the food tent.

"Enjoying yourself?" Edward asked.

"Immensely."

She beamed at the smile he gave her, noticing it was slightly crooked which made it even more endearing. Immediately self-conscious that he might thing she was staring, Isabella averted her eyes.

"Something wrong?"

She shook her head.

"I like it when you look at me, Isabella," he said in a low voice as if revealing some hidden secret. "I may not be of a cultured class, but in my world, courting couples can gaze upon each other. It makes it easier to communicate their likes. Their dislikes. Their desires."

"I…" she began before a booming voice interrupted their tiny bubble.

"As I live and breathe, Isabella Swan has come out of her gilded castle!"

Isabella took a deep breath. She recognized that voice and was in no rush to come face to face with James. He had often conducted business with her father and was a frequent visitor to Swan House, particularly during meal times. James had often said, hiding behind a joking tone, that he would be first in line when Isabella was eligible to take a turn in society, something she had no desire to experience.

Slowly, she turned her head, forcing a pleasant expression.

Before her stood James Hunter, clad in the gaudy colors he was so fond of, standing with one arm possessively around the waist of a fiery-haired woman in as equally questionable garb.

"Victoria, this is Isabella Swan. The woman who tried to steal me away from you. Isabella, this is my fiancée, Victoria Nomad." He placed a loud kiss on the woman's cheek, earning a giggle and a playful shove.

Isabella clamped her jaw shut for fear it would hit the table at the accusation, but Victoria smiled indulgently at James, shaking her head.

"We all know it takes a special kind of woman to deal with this man." Victoria placed one hand on James' chest and beamed.

During the conversation, Edward stood in deference to Victoria, and he watched the interaction in stony silence. Isabella feared James would frighten off her suitor as James asked inconsequential questions about Mrs. Alice and Jasper and even some of the horses in her father's stables. But that trepidation was for naught as Edward proffered a hand and gave sincere congratulations to their upcoming nuptials when James paused to take a breath.

After a few more pleasantries, James and Victoria flittered off into the night and Edward returned to his seat.

The couple continued to eat, silence uncomfortably settled between them.

"So," Isabella barked suddenly, her voice hoarse and thin. "I dare say within the hour, everyone will know I have a suitor. I mean, between Lauren and Jessica and James. Those three talk more than Parliament."

Edward tilted his head, studying her for a moment, measuring his words carefully.

"Good."

 **Thank you for your continued patience. I had hoped to post every week, but RL did not care for that. I have 1 more trip in 2 weeks (Disney! Yay! Chaperoning 8** **th** **graders…um…)**

 **I hope to get to review responses this week and then continue to write & post the next chapter in 2 weeks. Gotta get to the fireworks. VBG.**

 **Have you read the entries for the Mobward contest? Have you voted? I've really enjoyed them…give them a try!**

 **I always love knowing what you think so if you have a notion, leave me a review!**

 **DeJean**


	12. Chapter 12

**Sincere apologies for the delay in posting. RL has been a bugger.**

Isabella gently closed the door to her bedroom, not that she thought she would waken Emmett from his slumber, but because the silence was precious to her, and she needed to hold that peaceful feeling just a little longer. She wanted to pack up every sensation and hold it tight in her heart for as long as possible. Words could not describe how wondrous the evening had been.

She hummed in her head as she crossed the room toward her dresser, dancing and spinning on the ball of one foot every few steps.

A giggle escaped her lips as she realized what she was doing.

She was the happiest she had been since word of her father's ship going down and it all bubbled up and out in spontaneous silliness.

What an evening she had.

Her eyes flitted over to the carriage clock on her writing desk.

2 am.

Isabella had never stayed awake this late.

No loss of slipper or Phaeton's turning into pumpkins for this Cinderella, she mused.

2 am.

Oh, most certainly, she had been roused by the occasional storm or bad dream at this hour, but sleep usually quickly returned. Not even a book had managed to keep her roused this late.

The past day had been exciting and exhausting and oh, so different from anything she had ever experienced.

Isabella slipped out of her dress and undergarments, carefully placing them over the back of chair next to her writing table before pulling her nightgown over her head. She knew she would be chided in the morning for not placing the clothing in its proper place, but she could not find it in herself to care.

Sighing blissfully as the lightly starched, white cotton slid over her skin, she reached up to pull the pins out of her hair. Isabella smiled as she brought to her nose the roses Edward had given her to wear. They still smelled just as sweet as when he offered them.

Had that only been yesterday afternoon? So much had happened since then.

Isabella slid into her bed, snuggling down with a satisfied sigh.

" _Good," Edward had said._

" _Good?"_

" _I am a selfish man, Isabella. If I can eliminate any competition for your attention, more the better."_

" _There is no competition, Edward Masen. I am no prize to be won."_

" _You most certainly do not see yourself clearly."_

" _Hmm…"_

 _She had not believed him, and he could tell by the curve in her brow that she doubted his sincerity._

 _Raising his chin, Edward motioned across the way toward a man old enough to be her father._

" _You see him?" he had murmured close to her ear, causing her to blush and goose bumps to erupt over her skin. "He was most fascinated with your seat..."_

" _My chair? Is he tired? Does he need a place to …"_

 _Edward had smiled indulgently. She could feel the mirth rolling off of him as he shook his head, yet she did not feel as though he were laughing at her, unlike some they had recently been with._

" _It's not furniture he stared at, my dear, innocent Isabella. When you were attempting to win your prize, you bent over, giving him a most delectable sight. I'm quite certain he could not think with no blood reaching his brain."_

" _He did not!"_

 _She was mortified at his suggestion as Angela's lesson on male anatomy flooded her mind._

" _He did."_

 _Edward stood and offered an arm, not wishing to shock the sensibilities of his young lady with further conversation of such nature. He had spied several men, of all ages, watch her and he could almost read their minds as they considered attempting to usurp his position as her escort._

" _Come. I'd like to get a little more to eat before it gets too dark to find a place to watch the fireworks."_

Isabella smiled as she remembered how Edward's eyes had shone when he saw the little booths with sandwiches and fruit tidbits, Cornish pasties, and pancakes rolled around boiled chicken. The man did enjoy his food. But his absolute favorite had been the bits of fried dough rolled in sugar and cinnamon that tumbled down his chin and over his Champion ribbon with each bite.

The crooked grin of satisfaction as he popped the last morsel into his mouth made her heart glad.

" _Have you ever seen fireworks before?" Edward asked, settling down next to her._

 _Blankets had been spread on the ground on a small hill, providing a comfy spot for couples to perch as well as provide a respectable distance between the parties. Perhaps the party organizers knew of the gossiping harpies that lived in the area and wanted to ensure a modicum of privacy while ensuring no one conducted themselves inappropriately in the dark night._

 _Isabella shook her head before realizing he might not be able to see her._

" _No. But I have read about them in books. About how the Chinese created them. How they are like nothing I have ever seen before."_

 _Her heart sped up in anticipation for the entertainment to come._

" _Have you?"_

" _Just once."_

 _A short distance away, the stumbling figures of Lauren and Jessica could be seen attempting to navigate between the settled couples as they discovered that all the prime spots were already occupied. A very unladylike muttering reached Isabella's ears as Lauren tripped and the sound of tearing fabric filled the dark air._

" _Oops!" Isabella giggled, ducking her head to hide her smile._

" _Tsk, tsk," Edward teasingly chided, pointedly not looking in the direction of the hubbub. "One would think you did not care for the woman's predicament."_

" _Not caring would be too kind of an assessment."_

 _The snort of laughter that was quickly disguised by a cough made Isabella smile._

 _Off in the distance, the band began to play. She did not recognize the tune but enjoyed it nonetheless._

" _This is how they did it for the only other time I've seen fireworks," Edward murmured close to her ear._

 _She shivered, knowing he was seated so close. So much closer than would have been allowed under normal circumstances, she believed._

" _For Her Majesty's Golden Jubilee, they had a similar production. It was quite the spectacle."_

" _You were there?" Her eyes widened in awe._

" _Only as a servant. One of my classmates had a relation that worked in the kitchens. They needed extra hands, and I needed pocket money. Because it was my birthday, they allowed me to stand outside and see a few minutes of the fireworks. It was quite amazing."_

" _And what a present for your birthday!"_

" _Yes. And I thought nothing could top that."_

 _Just then, the first, brilliant cascade of color exploded in multiple shades of pink and red._

 _Isabella felt the lightest brush of his fingertips as they laced between hers._

" _But, Isabella Swan, being here with you this evening, is something I will treasure more than anything."_

 _His hand gently cupped her jaw and turned her to face him before he leaned over and gently kissed her._

" _Thank you."_

Isabella wrapped the covers tighter around her as she remembered the music and the fireworks and how right his hand felt covering hers.

And the kiss.

She had read about first kisses, and how they would forever change a woman. She had not believed the stories, even when Angela waxed poetically about how talented The Right Reverend was.

Again, Isabella was not sure she could ever attend church with the proper sense of decorum.

But the tenderness, the almost reverential way he had touched her cheek. No words could ever capture the feelings and emotions she had at that moment. For the rest of the show, between the _oohs_ and _ahs_ he whispered sweet bits of poetry into her ear that no one else could hear.

Once the entertainment ended, servants with lanterns lined the walkway back to the games and food and merriment. Together, they decided to return to Swan House rather than follow most of the rest of the crowd. After all, Emmett was working on an assignment and was certain to need supervision early in the morning.

Edward did not kiss her again as he escorted her to the front door of Swan House before heading for his new quarters in a small house down the garden path. Not because he did not wish to, no she was certain of that.

They had been remarkably quiet as they left the Hale estate and boarded the Phaeton. It was a comfortable silence, one where a couple was so in synch with each other that they had no need to speak, rather they just enjoyed the company of the other.

But Isabella noticed how Edward took a moment to ensure his coat lay a certain way over his lap as they sat for the rest of the fireworks and walked with a little extra care on their way to the Phaeton, muttering how he must have sat on a rock when she began to inquire. Oh, Isabella was quite certain he left before he illustrated some of Angela's more blush-inducing lessons, tossing any further rules of propriety out the window.

The next morning, Isabella dressed in her favorite pale blue dress, twisted her hair up into a proper bun and trotted down the stairs to the dining room, expecting to find Edward and Emmett going over the day's lesson plans. She was sadly disappointed to find only her brother, surrounded by a mountain of paper, a pair of scissors, and a pot of paste next to a quickly congealing bowl of oatmeal porridge.

"Good morning, sister!" Emmett smiled, slapping a piece of paper onto a map. "Breakfast is over there."

"Good morning, Emmett," she replied, shaking her head with a wry smile. He had already managed to get a piece of paper glued to his forehead.

Isabella checked the temperature of the tea pot, and, finding it to her liking, poured herself a cup before laying a pastry and a few strawberries onto her plate.

"The post arrived a few minutes ago and is on the cart," Emmett muttered, pointing with his scissors to the small silver tray across the room just as Isabella took her seat.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, she arose and crossed the chamber to see what had been delivered.

An invoice for her latest book delivery.

A paper wrapped book, judging by the feel of it and the return address.

An invoice for feed for the stables.

"Oh, look! It's a thank you note from Rosalie for her present!"

Isabella noticed her brother's ears pinken as he pointedly tried to ignore her. She smiled as she came to the last envelope. It had been badly damaged in transit with dark water stains. The script on the outside was barely legible. After taking her seat and a quick sip of tea, she carefully pried open the envelope and extracted the single page.

"Emmett, where are my spectacles?"

"Wherever you last left them. Least that's what you always tell me when I ask you where my things are."

Emmett turned back to his coloring with a rather self-satisfied smile on his face as his sister refrained from pulling a face at him before heading to her father's office. The smell of tobacco and leather was a comfort as she found her glasses where she had left them, next to the Swan House ledger. Even with the extra help, she found it difficult to decipher everything on the page.

 _May 1_ _st_

 _My dearest cousin,_

 _It has truly been too long since…_

 _I look forward to … soon_

… _happily married last Au…_

 _Most excellent news to share…_

… _.recovering here before…_

… _will arrive the afternoon of May 21_ _st_ _._

 _Your loving cousin,_

 _Esme Cullen_

Isabella's eyes flew open as she reread the date and then quickly searched out her father's desk calendar. May 21st was today! There would be company at Swan House in only a few hours! She dashed from the room, calling for Jasper.

"Ma'am?" His brow was creased with concern. Miss Isabella rarely raised her voice.

"Company, Japser! I mean, Jasper! I mean…" She tried to gain her breath as she clutched the letter to her breast.

"Take a moment, Miss. We are in no hurry."

"Oh, but we are! Cousin Esme and possibly her new husband are arriving today!" She waved the epistle to accentuate her point. "We need to have Alice plan accordingly for meals and get a room ready and…"

She spun on her heels, trying to remember the last time company had come to Swan House and what needed to be done.

"Flowers!" she exclaimed, running to the door. "I must get flowers for her room and…"

Before Jasper could say a word, she disappeared out the door toward the garden. In his general, staid fashion, he shook his head ever so slightly before heading to the kitchen to let his wife know company was on its way.

Halfway to the kitchen, Jasper heard rapid footsteps behind him. Isabella dashed by, blurting out an apology before announcing she would talk to Alice about meals if he would arrange for the yellow bedroom to be readied.

"Esme loves yellow and the morning sun does not make it too too!"

Jasper shook his head with a dry smile before turning on his heel and climbed the stairs to the housekeeper's chambers to do as Isabella asked.

Isabella clipped a cluster of primroses and added it to the basket which already held bluebells, hyacinths, and greenery. She mentally arranged them in the silver vase she had requested be polished and brought to the yellow bedroom. Perhaps another two or three clusters of 'prims' would be best.

And some ivy to straggle down.

A few more snips and she was satisfied with her collection. Rising with a soft grunt, Isabella straightened and tugged off her gloves before tossing them into her collection basket.

Looking up at the sky, she reckoned it was close to four o'clock and Swan House would soon have its first houseguests since her father's death. She realized she was excited and terrified at the same time. As lady of the house, it was her responsibility to ensure everything went as smoothly as possible.

Isabella had every confidence in the staff and their preparations. All she needed to do was arrange the flowers, wash her face and hands, and make sure her dress had no stains.

The sound of horseshoes on the stone driveway told her that her time was quickly coming to an end.

Tossing her basket over her arm, Isabella dashed for the sunporch. In a mad flurry, she unpinned her bonnet and threw it atop the basket of flowers she placed near the door. She plunged her hands into the waiting bucket of water and dried them on her apron before tearing it off and crumpled it into a ball. She hoped and prayed her face was in acceptable condition as she rushed through the hall toward the main entrance.

"Isabella?"

She paused, hearing Edward call her name. He emerged from the dining room, concern marring his handsome face.

"They are here!" she announced just as the bell rang. "Do I look presentable? Do I have dirt on my face?"

Edward gently took her hands and gazed into her eyes. She immediately felt calmer as he studied her face.

"You are beautiful. Inside and out, my dear," he murmured before brushing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Ewwww!"

"Brothers," Isabella muttered before smiling up at her beau.

Jasper cleared his throat.

"Miss, shall I answer the door or do you wish to do so?"

An indulgent smile graced the older man's face as she ran toward the door and threw it open to greet her cousin.

Isabella's heart clenched and her knees threatened to buckle as she saw not only her cousin and a handsome, blond-headed man she assumed to be Dr. Cullen but a person she never expected to see again.

"Hello, Isabella."

 **Apologies for the cliffie—but I'm evil like that. *wink***

 **True fact-there were fireworks on June 20, 1887, for Her Majesty. I thought it fitting since canon Edward Cullen's birthday is June 20th.**

 **I'm traveling this weekend so it will be two weeks before the next update (but it's already half planned, so I'm optimistic!)**

 **Again, thank you for your patience. Life has been very writing unfriendly. I'm hoping as the school year ends (Today for my older ; Thursday for my baby!) I'll have more time. And motivation.**

 **As always, I love hearing what you think.**

 **DeJean**


	13. Chapter 13

**Deepest apologies at the month-long delay in getting this out. It has been a hectic, active, rewarding month. I know this is short, but I wanted to get something out this week…**

" _Hello, Isabella."_

Time ceased moving.

Isabella stood, staring at her door, frozen in time.

She had often read about such earthshattering moments when a hero or heroine would have something revealed that would cause the world around to cease its movement. Never in her life had she imagined such an event would happen to her. Not even in her wildest and most fervent prayers had she hoped to see the sight before her.

Looking up from a wheeled chair was a man she had never seen before. He seemed familiar, yet totally foreign. The man bore an air of exhaustion, as if completely worn out from travel, although his eyes shone with an inner light. His clothes, rumpled and so large from weight that had been suddenly lost. His bones rattled about in the bag-like skin he now wore. Healing cuts covered his face and a bandage peeked out of one sleeve.

But those eyes. Dark brown, framed by scraggly eyebrows, deep and wise. Those eyes she saw every day growing up. Those eyes looked back at her when she ventured to gaze into a mirror.

She knew him.

"Papa?"

Isabella's voice was barely above a whisper and her knees buckled as her heart clenched. It was too much to hope for.

He was dead. Her father had gone down with his ship as it travelled from Hull.

A short voyage, nothing to worry about, he had said.

He had been wrong.

Or so the reports had told the family.

Had the seamen been erroneous in their recalling seeing him slip beneath the waves, not to return?

Those eyes watched her as every conceivable emotion bombarded her heart.

With some effort, he extended one hand.

"Hello, Isabella."

It was him! Her father lived! Oh, thank all the mercies of heaven above!

Caring not for her dress, Isabella ran to her father's side and fell to her knees, throwing her arms around him. Words spilled from her lips, nonsensical to the ordinary ear, but filled with the sound of a broken heart healing.

"I thought… We were told…"

Unbeknownst to her, Edward slipped away, returning momentarily with a befuddled Emmett at his side. The young man stared silently at the scene before him—a handsome couple, a sour-faced nurse based off her dress standing behind a man in a wheeled chair. His sister had her arms around the waist of the man, crying into his lap.

"Who's that?"

Charles turned toward his son, tears filling his eyes. Yes, the shipwreck had damaged him physically. Yes, he no longer appeared as he had the last time he had seen his children. But the pain of having those notions authenticated caused a tightness in his chest. He coughed and blinked before straightening in his chair.

Emmett still had a piece of paper glued to his face and from the looks of it, had run a sticky hand through his hair, causing it to stand at strange angles.

"Been climbing into pitch pots again, boy?"

Emmett's eyes flew open, the memory of accompanying his father to the inspection of a new ship he had commissioned and how the temptation of hiding in what turned out to be a vat of pitch had gotten him one of the few switchings he had ever received, flooded his mind.

"Father?"

"I told you I would return," Charles said, his voice cracking at the end. "And a Swan always keeps his promises."

Emmett stood still, his mind racing. The boy needed his father while decorum said to remain stoic.

"Go to him" Edward whispered, giving him all the permission he needed.

The young man ran for his father, wrapping his arms around and squeezing for all he was worth.

"I told you it wouldn't be long before you were taller than I," Charles said with a laugh, tousling his son's hair before a coughing fit took hold.

"It is in my opinion, Mr. Swan is in need of a rest," the nurse groused, removing Isabella and Emmett from his person and checking him for any potential injuries.

"Sue…" Esme began before Charles held up his hand.

"No, no. She is correct. I fear the journey has taken more out of me than I expected it would."

He turned to face Isabella.

"Would it be too much to assume that my room has not been taken over?"

A new round of tears sprung to her eyes. Isabella blinked rapidly and nodded.

"It is just as you left it, Papa."

"Then I shall retire until mealtime."

Charles looked around the foyer, examining the walls for any changes that might have occurred since his disappearance.

"It seems as though nothing has changed," he mused, pushing his chair forward.

"Nothing other than I have a new tutor, and Isabella has a suitor," Emmett replied with all the joy and innocence of youth.

Charles paused, and Isabella felt her face pinken. He looked from Emmett to Isabella to Edward and then back to Isabella.

"I would be correct in inferring they are one and the same?"

Isabella could not decipher his reaction, but she nodded.

"Then it would be safe to assume our mealtime conversation will be quite lively." Charles motioned toward Sue and then the stairs and the nurse quickly moved into action.

"Does he need assistance?" Isabella whispered to Esme.

"Standing is difficult, but he has learned to walk and climb stairs in the last month," she replied, looping her arm through her cousin's. "And it appears we have much to talk about, dear Isabella."

 **Thank you for your continued faithfulness to this story. I am forever humbled by my readers.**

 **For those that don't have me on author alert, I posted the first chapter of a plot bunny called Cuddle Buddy. I assure you, Port is my number one concern, but words were failing and CB was a nice way to make sure I hadn't lost my ability to string words together. Go check it out!**

 ***Chapter two of CB has already been named, tho not written… What the H is glamping? Just a tease for y'all.**

 **P.S. Hi, Beppa!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I truly apologize for the delay—I foolishly thought the end of summer / start of school would be less hectic. Silly me.**

 **Back to our favorite suitor/tutor…**

All stood and watched as Charles and Sue made their way upstairs. He was careful, taking each step one at a time, but with his nurse's assistance, he succeeded and was soon out of sight.

Isabella straightened and looked over to see a Jasper awaiting her orders. She took a small breath before slowly releasing it.

"If you could inform Mrs. Alice that our guest list has increased and supper will need to be modified, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course, ma'am. And perhaps some refreshments should be brought to the parlor?"

She nodded, her mind racing yet in a fog at the same time.

How? How had her father survived the shipwreck? Numerous accounts had him last seen slipping beneath the waves, never to resurface.

Where? Where had he been all this time, with no word, not a hint of his presence.

What? What did this mean for Edward and Emmett? Her brother had grown so attached to his tutor, but her father had ever right now to declare the contract null and void. Charles was, after all, a businessman and a shrewd one at that. What would be his reaction to the rewriting, regardless of circumstances?

"What's wrong with Father?" Emmett demanded, breaking her from her thoughts, though Isabella had no idea how to respond.

"Is'bella?"

She turned toward her cousin whose nervous smile comforted her. It had been too long since she had heard her name said such, a reminder of when a little, gap-toothed girl had a playmate for too short of a time.

"This way."

Isabella guided the company to the parlor, realizing there were not quite enough seats. Emmett, sensing his sister's turmoil, grabbed a pillow and plopped down on the floor, a satisfied smile on his face as she mouthed the words 'thank you.'

Once everyone found a place, Esme and her new husband, Carlisle, on the loveseat, Edward and Isabella in armchairs on either side of a drum table, and Emmett happily situated between them and tea and nibbles passed, Carlisle cleared his throat and began to relay Charles' story to the best of his knowledge.

"When the ship went down, several of the sailors reported seeing Charles slip beneath the waves. We do not know what exactly happened, but according to Sue, he was found washed up on the shore, miles away. He was unconscious for days with no identification and since he had been seen going under, no one looked for him. His injuries were quite extensive and they treated him as best they could, but with no family coming forward, I am quite certain he was dependent upon the charity of the hospital."

Isabella's heart clenched at the information. Her father had survived a sinking ship only to be at the mercy of the almighty coin. What type of hospital had found him? Was it a charitable one that provided for his need regardless of his ability to pay? Had he been abused while in their care?

"Before he could regain consciousness, a fever took hold and delirium set in. No one took seriously anything he said, thinking it was madness."

"The doctors said Sue sat with Charles day and night, tending to him as if he were her own," Esme interjected. "She has said he reminded her of her husband, God rest his soul."

"When the fever broke, it had been well over a month since the ship went down and his injuries were severe enough, Charles was encouraged to rest as much as possible."

"Meaning they gave him Laudanum to make him sleep as often as they could. Poor man didn't have a chance of telling anyone who he was or where he was from!"

Carlisle sighed, a wan smile gracing his lips. His bride rolled her eyes and gave his knee a squeeze before fixing herself another cup of tea. It was obvious to all the topic had been frequently discussed and debated.

"Continue, dearest." Esme adjusted her skirts as she retook her seat and demurely took a sip from her cup.

"As Esme has said, Charles spent the better part of three months under the influence of Laudanum, and when he finally became lucid enough to answer questions, he found it difficult to convince the staff to believe he was Charles Swan, merchant. In their minds, if he was, wouldn't family be looking for him?"

"But Sue believed him and wrote to you. But she never received a response."

"I never received …" Isabella's eyes filled with tears.

Edward reached over for her hand and took it in his. She smiled thinly at his gesture, gently squeezing his fingertips, drawing strength from the warmth he provided.

Her father had sent word, but for some cruel reason, she had never received the letter.

"The post boys are quite unreliable. Especially around Hull. It truly is a miracle that I was called to his hospital as a favor of an old friend," Carlisle continued. "Esme accompanied me and through divine grace, walked down the hall and recognized him."

"It took several weeks before they would allow Uncle to travel even the short distance to our home and even then, it was only with the assurance Sue could continue to care for him." Esme looked toward the door, a sly smile gracing her lips. "I do believe she has feelings for the old man."

"Esme!" Isabella gasped in shock.

"It may be nothing more than nurse-patient adoration, Isabella," Carlisle added. "My bride does tend to have quite the romantic streak in her. That said, Sue has been a rock for Charles, and it is in my professional opinion, because of her, he survives to this day."

"Even if she is a grouch."

"Emmett!" Isabella was horrified at her brother's assessment, even though in the few moments she had shared a room with the woman, she had to agree.

"So, Father is back. Does that mean Edward can move back in the house?"

Carlisle and Esme exchanged looks of confusion.

"I am Emmett's tutor," Edward explained, turning his attention to Isabella's cousins. "While I was just his tutor, Mr. Hale provided me a room near Emmett's to accommodate my what some might call unusual methods."

Esme nodded for even in her abbreviated time living at Swan House, she knew Emmett required a less than traditional schooling.

"Yesterday, I made my intentions clear. I wish to court Miss Swan, and she has accepted my request. Therefore, I arranged to be moved out from under this roof for the sake of propriety and to avoid any wagging tongues."

"My dear, the Swans have always been the subject of less than flattering words," Esme mused. "Fortunately, they care not a whit."

"But…"

"But it is quite admirable that you wish to protect her honor."

Jasper appeared at the door and waited stoically until he was acknowledged.

"Mrs. Alice says dinner will begin at seven, and I have taken the liberty to prepare rooms for Dr. and Mrs. Cullen and Mrs. Sue. I have already shown Mrs. Sue her chambers. Mrs. Cullen, the yellow bedroom has been prepared for you and your husband."

"You remembered! Thank you, Jasper!"

After a quick bow, he retired to the kitchen to assist his wife in her preparations.

"Can I go play now?" Emmett whined, tired of adult talk and sitting still.

"Can you?" Bella retorted with a smile. "You certainly look able."

She received an eye-roll for her effort at humor.

"Yes, you may."

In a clomp of shoes on hardwood, the young boy dashed out of the house, slamming a door behind him.

"Now, dear cousin of mine," Esme said with a smile, holding one hand out which Isabella took before finding herself pulled into a warm hug. "It is so good to see you."

"And you," Isabella sighed, enjoying the happy moment.

"All will be right." Esme looked from Isabella's eyes to Edward and back to Isabella. "I know it. I feel it in my bones."

"I do hope so."

"I know so." She straightened and gazed over at her husband. "I believe the two of us will freshen up a bit before supper, if that is acceptable."

"Esme, you know this is your home as well. Papa told you that."

"Then we shall leave the two of you to a few minutes of solitude. Just be sure to leave the door open!"

And with a saucy wink, Esme took her husband's hand and pulled him from the room.

Isabella watched as the two left and shook her head slowly. Gone was the broken woman who had fled from an abusive husband and in her place was the content, mischievous cousin she remembered.

"She's quite different with him," she mused. "Happier."

"You sound almost envious," Edward murmured.

"She didn't have a good first marriage. Her father told her whom to marry, and she did. She never had a choice."

"Choice is always good."

Isabella smiled warmly up at Edward, silently agreeing with him before nodding.

"Yes, choice is always good."

 **Thank you for your continued interest in this story—I greatly appreciate it as well as each and every review and recommend. Thank you!**

 **Next is dinner…and Charles' reaction to Isabella's suitor.**

 **ICYMI: Pay it Forward will be featuring three fics in three different categories on their new blog each month. Number one will be our Rookie ... A new, first-time writer showcasing their first fic on our blog. Number two will be our Encore ... A new fic from a seasoned author giving us a sneak peek. Number three will be our Classic ... one from the vault, a time-tested oldie.  
If you are** **a Rookie and need help, contact Fran on the PIF page, or myself. And if you have an Encore, contact her to get your new fic showcased. And anyone interesting in writing a summary on one of their favs, please feel free to send it in.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh, my! A chapter! Whoo hoo!**

 **I'll let y'all get to it…A/N at the end.**

'Twas only a minute or two before supper would be called. Isabella fussed with a bowl of flowers in the center of the sideboard, turning one so it presented its best side, removing a dead leaf here and there. She took deep, cleansing breaths in a futile attempt to slow her heart.

What if her father did not approve of Mr. Masen? Would he be sent away? At that notion, her heart felt as though it had stopped beating for an eternity. Emmett had come to love and admire the tutor to the point he attempted to style his hair in the same way, refusing a trip to the barber's chair so it would grow longer. Isabella smiled to herself when she remembered spying her brother coming out of their father's room with Papa's toiletries in hand.

 _A man must present himself well at all times._

Isabella did not recall her father having ever said such a phrase, so she only imagined Emmett was parroting Edward.

Edward. Both she and Emmett would not survive if Papa sent him away.

Isabella shook her head in self-disgust. Now she was being overly dramatic, like one of the characters in her books. Of course, she would survive. Not happily, mind you. But she would live and breathe and…

Papa had to understand. She would simply need to convince her father, logically and eloquently, how crucial it was to the happiness of her and her brother to keep the young tutor suitor in Swan House's employ. She would emphasize Emmett's educational progress. Surely as the heir to her father's holdings, he would want only the best for Emmett and that would be keeping Mr. Masen as a tutor.

Isabella giggled at the name. _Tutor suitor._ Well, Edward Masen was certainly both.

Mentally, she began compiling a list of Edward's invaluable attributes in order to provide the proper argument to her father should the opportunity present itself. She had changed into a fancier dress than she had taken to wearing after hearing of her father's passing. The dark blue fabric flowed over her bustle, reminding her of a waterfall with its hint of white lace peeking out around the hem. She hoped her father did not find it too scandalous and preferably view the attire as that of a young woman, well-educated and able to take care of herself and know what she wanted out of the world. She was no longer the scared, little girl who wished for nothing more than to be left alone with her books.

"You are quite lovely this evening, Miss Swan."

She slowly turned toward the voice and found Edward and Emmett standing just inside the dining room doorway. Both had changed clothes as well. The older, dashing in his finely cut charcoal suit, watched her closely, causing a rosy blush to infuse her cheeks. The younger, shuffled uneasily, trying to shift his coat and tie to a more comfortable position.

"Thank you, Mr. Masen."

The bell sounded, announcing someone's arrival at the door.

"That must be Mr. Hale and Miss Rosalie. Emmett, why don't you go greet them."

Before the words were out of her mouth, the young man dashed from the room, leaving the two alone. Isabella turned her attention back to the flowers, nervously fussing with them. She heard Edward approach, his shoes clipping sharply on the hardwood floors. Yet when she looked up, she found him a respectable three feet away. Her face must have conveyed her confusion.

"Until I have the opportunity to speak to your father, to ask officially for permission to court you, I'm afraid I must return to a more formal behavior. I respect you too much to compromise your good name."

She nodded, understanding his reticence to approach her, although she did not care for it a whit. Isabella had grown accustomed to Edward's presence, drawing comfort from him being close by. He was an excellent conversationalist, as well, though at that particular moment, discussing the going price of county produce was not the first thought on her mind.

Edward Masen was certainly not difficult to gaze upon, and she realized if she had any hope of convincing her father, logically and fairly, to keep the man in Swan House's employ, she needed to focus on anything and everything besides how he well his suit fit. And how green his eyes were. And how that particular lock of hair seemed to always escape taming pomades. And-

Mrs. Alice pushed a wooden cart into the dining room, laden with fine china platters covered by silver cloches. She nodded a greeting to the couple before setting the table.

"Your papa is coming down the stairs, Miss. And Jasper is showing Emmett how to greet guests properly. I'm afraid, 'What is that?' is not acceptable when a lady wears a new hat."

Isabella pinched her lips together in an effort to stifle a laugh but eventually failed and snorted. She covered her mouth in mortification just as her father and Sue entered the room, followed by Carlisle and Esme, Emmett, and Mr. Hale and Rosalie, earning a querulous look from her father.

She shrugged guiltily, earning a wry smile. Charles knew how Isabella had been during his supposed passing, thanks to a quick conversation with Horace. Hearing her laugh lightened his heart immensely. She was his first born and would always hold a special place in his heart.

Jasper escorted each woman to their seats, placing Sue on one side of Charles and Isabella on the other.

After a quick prayer offered by Carlisle, the meal commenced in relative silence other than the sound of utensils scraping on china and requests to pass dishes around.

"So, Horace. This does not appear to be the Edward Masen I hired. Unless he has found the fabled Fountain of Youth."

Isabella dropped her knife with a loud clatter, earning a giggle from Emmett and Rosalie at the far end of the table. She had half a mind to stick her tongue out at them but remembered her place. And the fact that proving to her father she was no longer a young girl but a blossoming, young woman would be nullified with the action.

"That would be Senior, Sir." Edward dabbed at his mouth with a napkin before continuing. "My father was in an accident and broke his leg. I was taught to honor a commitment and since my father could not do so, I took it upon myself to take his place."

"Hmmm." Charles made no effort to disguise his blatant stare at the young man, waiting for him to blink.

"Mr. Masen is the best tutor I've ever had," Emmett announced with glee. "We made Krakatoa, mapped several trade routes, studied the plants in the far gardens and found we had poison oak there. Mrs. Alice had to make a really stinky poultice and put it on my arms so I wouldn't scratch. Mr. Masen said it was a good thing it was my arms and not my hands because I could have spread it to…"

Edward cleared his throat, remembering the private conversation and that it had no business being shared in front of mixed company. Fortunately, Emmett took the hint and changed course in his conversation.

"Then we made a fort out of sheets and chairs in the nursery and…"

"Quite a varied program of education there, Mr. Masen." Charles motioned with his fork before popping the last bite of roast into his mouth. As he carefully chewed, he studied the young man.

"My sister, Tanya, has always had difficulty with standard teaching regimens. She has always been a dreamer, someone who wants to know all the details and explore the side-ways and by-ways. Tanya has not been fortunate enough to have someone able to walk beside her and guide her. Rather, she has been dragged down the 'this is how it is' path. Her struggles taught me another way to regard education, and I believe it has made me a better teacher."

"Well, whatever path you've taken, m'boy," Mr. Hale interjected, "it certainly has caught Emmett's interest. I've never seen him so excited to start his day in the classroom."

"Thank you, Mr. Hale." Edward turned back toward Charles. "That does not mean we have not had our diversions along the way. Some of my assignments failed to connect. The practice was not as successful as the plan, if you will. And we had to rework them."

"As in life," Charles announced with a nod of approval. "Excellent."

"Thank you, Sir."

Charles remained silent, his gaze moving from Edward to Isabella and then back as Jasper silently whisked away the plates and utensils. A cup and saucer, spoon and sugar bowl, and a pudding were placed before the gentleman. Coffee was poured and Charles focused his attention on sweetening the brew, ignoring the chuff from Sue as a third spoonful was added.

And then a fourth.

And a fifth.

"Papa?"

Charles startled and looked at his cup. He never added more than half a spoonful of sugar to his coffee, but he had been known to get distracted and lose track while deep in thought.

"How many did I put in?"

"Five, Sir," Edward replied as his own plate was taken and the tablecloth quickly crumbed.

"Oh, good Lord," Charles muttered, motioning for Jasper to take the offending cup away and a fresh one replaced the overly sweetened one. After a scant spoonful was added, he took a quick sip. "Much better."

Isabella accepted her pudding and cup of tea with a smile and a polite thank you as she wondered what was going through her father's mind.

"How old are you, Mr. Masen?" Charles asked suddenly.

"Twenty-three, Sir. Twenty-four in a fortnight."

Isabella's eyes widened. She had forgotten Edward had said the Queen's Jubilee had been on his birthday. Her mind flitted from idea to idea of what she might get him as a birthday present. Perhaps a nice writing pen or a smart tie. Would clothing be too personal? She would need to ask Angela or Mrs. Alice for their opinion, for she did not want to do anything improper, mainly out of fear of offending her father.

"And Isabella will be nineteen in September," Charles mused. "I was not here to throw her a proper coming out party for her eighteenth."

"I didn't want a party, Papa," Isabella assured him, taking his hand in his and squeezing tightly. Had she had one, she would have only wished for him to be there. "Master Hale offered to arrange one."

"And she would have none of it," Horatio interjected.

"You should have had one. My daughter only turns of age once."

"I did not feel like celebrating, Papa," Isabella murmured, remembering how alone she felt while deep in mourning.

"Perhaps we could have a combination birthday and welcome home celebration for you, Charles," Horatio suggested. "I am certain others in the community would love to see our local Lazarus."

"Nosy bastards that they are," Charles muttered, ignoring the giggles from Emmett and Rosalie as he drank his coffee and finished his pudding. "Excellent as always, Jasper."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Then it is settled. Isabella, you get with Mrs. Alice and see what the schedule holds. When we can get the supplies and decorations and what all. I expect a proper birthday celebration and if anyone wants to see the 'Lazarus' as you have put it, Horatio, I will be proudly on display for all to gawk at. And Isabella can be presented to society at that time."

"Sir, I wish to speak to you about that," Edward began, straightening in his chair.

"Oh, I am fully aware of your intentions, Edward Masen, Junior. Between now and then, I will be watching how you are with Emmett and with Isabella. Come the night of the celebration, Isabella will be presented and throughout the party, interested gentleman will be welcome to approach her and make their intentions known. She will give them her utmost attention and with an open mind listen to their proposals."

"But my mind is already…" Isabella began before her father silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Isabella, darling." Charles' words were sincere and measured as he continued. "Believe it or not, I was young once, as well. And while I regret nothing about you or your brother, your mother is a completely different issue. I want you to be well aware of what is available before you lock yourself into a decision you cannot escape."

He was correct, and she knew it. With a deep sigh of resignation, she accepted his request for an open mind.

"Yes, Papa."

Isabella knew her own decision had been made and it would not change, but she also knew her father's stubbornness and in order to obtain his blessing, she would have to follow his wishes.

"Now, off you go. Horace, Edward, and I have a few things we need to discuss in my office over cigars and brandy, barring you tossed them out with the wrongful report of my demise."

"No, Papa. They are just as you left them."

Horace coughed.

"Well, maybe a few are missing," he admitted with a wry grin.

"I wouldn't expect any other way, my friend." Charles watched Sue, Isabella, Esme, Carlisle, Rosalie, and Emmett stand. "And children?"

Isabella and Emmett looked at their father expectantly.

"No listening through the walls."

"Yes, Sir," the two responded obediently as they followed the others out of the dining room.

"Now, gentlemen," Charles said, pushing his chair back and slowly standing. "Let us go discuss a few things."

 **Thank you for your patience. I got caught up in a few contests (Age of Edward—did well in that! And Tricks and Treats—did spectacularly in that one. And Naughty or Nice—didn't win anything, but I was proud of the story and it got a lot of positive reviews). Add real life, Thanksgiving travels, Christmas travels, two job interviews (one oh-hail-no and one I don't want to be there), and one job offer (so I had to anguish over how to tell them no thank you without shooting myself in the foot since the county is a huge employer for my profession), snow and ice, and winter blahs, and there was very little writing done for this story.**

 **But I'm hopefully back. I do want to wrap this one up by the end of February (famous last words, I know). I'm also doing a FAGE so I need to get cracking on that.**

 **I hope to round out my contest entries and post them once that is done. And do a little more with Cuddle Buddy.**

 **Oh, and have I mentioned I'm gone for 10 days in February on a mission trip to India? Yeah, I love my crazy life, but…it's crazy!**

 **Thank you for being here & reading my words. It is greatly appreciated!**

 **DeJean**


	16. Chapter 16

**Yes! I'm back! More at the end…**

Edward found himself escorted to a small study off Charles' office, a room he had honestly thought was just a closet since the door had always been closed, and Emmett never entered it. He stood awkwardly to one side as the older gentlemen bustled about the room.

"I do believe Rosalie has a bit of a crush on young Emmett," Horatio muttered, waving a crystal decanter filled with a deep amber liquid. "She has not stopped talking about the bauble he gave her for her birthday."

"Better than that Royce boy she was mooning over before my voyage," Charles responded, making his way to an ancient, over-stuffed green velvet armchair. "What ever happened to them?"

"Mr. King was provided with a one-way voyage to Australia, last I heard. Official story was he wanted to explore new opportunities, but I believe it was a little more at her majesty's insistence."

"Not surprising. And with Royce hanging on to his father's every word and action, I'm glad they are gone."

The older two poured drinks and trimmed cigars in a practiced manner, leaving Edward to watch and learn and ponder why he had been brought along if the two were going to small talk about people whom he had no knowledge. Soon a drink was pressed into his hand and a chair dragged over for him. He failed to notice his tumbler was filled to the brim while Charles' and Horatio's were merely a single finger's worth.

"To many more joyful gatherings," Charles murmured before downing his drink.

Edward nodded and followed suit, quickly regretting the decision. The alcohol was strong, dark and potent. He was certain it was nothing like anything he had ever enjoyed before. The gasp that escaped his throat was quickly covered by a cough, but Charles and Horatio chuckled, remembering their own first tastes of finely aged whiskey. The cup was quickly refilled, and Charles motioned for Edward to take a seat.

As the young man gracefully seated himself across from his employer, he felt the eyes of both gentlemen lock on him. The friendly atmosphere of the room shifted, and Edward felt self-conscious as the two men watched him. The second glass of whiskey was quickly downed, and Edward felt the warmth radiate from his chest to his shoulders down his arms and to his fingers. He patiently awaited the inquisition he knew was coming.

"So, young Masen. Tell me about yourself," Charles gruffed before taking a deep draw of his cigar and then expelling a cloud of smoke.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Edward nodded in acknowledgement as his glass was filled once again.

"Who is Edward Anthony Masen, Jr.? Other than a poor scholar with impeccable credentials and a knack for getting odd children to learn their lessons."

"I wouldn't say Emmett is odd, Sir." Edward felt his face flush as he sat a little straighter in his chair and set his shoulders.

"You wouldn't?" Charles sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowing with a shrewd gaze. "And how would you describe him?"

"Curious. Not strange, but inquisitive. He wants to know about the world but only in a practical manner. I could provide him with fact after fact, and if I make the connection between the information and why it is important, he learns it. No connection…"

"No retention."

"Exactly. He wants to know why he needs to learn something, not to be difficult, but to make the connections in his mind as to why it is important and how it all relates."

"And how is Emmett doing with his coursework?"

"I have found him to be a delightful, curious, inquisitive young man."

Charles watched Edward for any signs of deception. He knew his son could be a handful and if the reports were true, Mr. Masen had managed to bring out the best in him both academically and socially.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning? Meaning exactly what I said, Mr. Swan. Emmett has a grand imagination, loves to explore and learn, and I have enjoyed our time together."

"Strange for a tutor to enjoy spending time with his student."

"If I did not enjoy it, I would not do it. But I do. Emmett's curiosity has allowed me many opportunities to find new topics of study and tailor them to his skills."

"Again, meaning?"

"Meaning he has a few limitations."

"Limitations?"

"As I've said, he would much rather practical knowledge to book knowledge. He would prefer to explore the world than merely read about it. So, we together find ways to allow him to do just that."

"Interesting."

"It has been. For both of us."

Edward placed his glass on the table, briefly wondering when it had been refilled for a third time and had he truly drunk all of it so quickly. In his nervousness, he had, and his brain felt a little sluggish when he thought about it.

Charles cleared his throat and set his own tumbler down. His brown eyes studied the young man unwaveringly as he enjoyed his cigar, waiting for Edward to react.

"So, I ask the question again. Who is Edward Anthony Masen, Jr.?"

Edward paused, slowly gathering his thoughts as the two men watched for any signs of nervousness or panic. There would be none.

"A man of honor, who fulfills his promises."

"I don't think you are speaking about being my son's tutor anymore."

"I speak of who I am. No matter the situation. My father made a contract and was unable to fulfill it, so I came here."

"It did not hurt that you were without employment yourself."

"I had other options," Edward replied proudly. He had an uncle that owned a tannery and had it come to that, he would have offered his services there.

"Options?"

"I am not afraid of physical labor, Sir."

"Ah. I see." Charles refilled his glass, offering the decanter to Horatio who remained standing behind his friend.

"So, you wish to marry my daughter," Charles finally said after a few moments.

Edward's eyes widened at the bluntness of the question. He had not so much as inquired as to courting Isabella and her father had them paired at the altar.

"Should she say yes, then absolutely. Eventually. I have declared my intentions and believe she is of a like mind."

"Of a like mind. Seems most convenient for you, Mr. Masen, doesn't it? A poor, lower class professor in need of employment who finds an attractive, wealthy, mourning young woman to …"

"Now just one minute, Mr. Swan, I, in no way …" Edward rose to his feet in quickly building anger at the insinuations Charles was making. He shuffled slightly, his head a little fuzzy from the two … three … four tumblers of whiskey he rapidly consumed. Edward realized he was counting on his fingers and quickly shoved his hands into his pockets.

"In no way? I find that very difficult to believe, Mr. Masen." Charles silently examined the young man for a moment. "You would have me believe if she should at any time, now or in the future, decide she cannot bear the thought of your presence, you would not take her for all that she has and…"

"No!" Edward's face turned bright red as his entire body shook at the notion of leaving Isabella. His Bella. No. That could never happen. Deflated, he murmured a quiet denial, shaking his head, sinking back into the chair. "I would never do that."

He lowered his head, pinching his eyes shut at the vision of her no longer loving him. Edward took a deep breath and in a subdued voice said, "Should she ever desire to be away from me, then I would leave her. Grant her her freedom. But not until she sent me away."

Charles hemmed quietly, watching the young man shook his head in dismay. Silently, he stood and slowly walked toward Edward. Charles gripped him on the shoulder, causing him to look up.

"Then never give her a reason to, my boy."

Charles released Edward's shoulder and headed toward the door, taking a puff on his cigar before motioning with it.

"See to it she never has a reason to send you away, and you have my blessing." With those words, the gentleman exited the room, leaving Edward in confused silence.

"What? What just happened?" he finally asked as he watched Horatio pour another glass, this time with a clear liquid.

"A test. One you passed with flying colors."

Edward warily took the tumbler, eyeing it suspiciously.

"It's just water, Mr. Masen. After that much whiskey, you are going to need it." He placed the pitcher on the table. "Probably quite a bit of it."

"But what…"

"Charles has always been an excellent judge of character. And with a little extra loosening of the tongue via the whiskey, he is quite certain your intentions towards Isabella are purely of the heart, not of the wallet."

"So he approves of our relationship?"

"As much as a father can when his daughter comes to him with a beau."

"Does this mean that the coming out party is cancelled?"

Mr. Hale laughed at the younger man's naivete.

"Not in the slightest. But he will grant you a certain level of, shall we say, priority to all other proposals."

"Priority?" Edward tilted his head, trying to wrap his rapidly growing fuzzier brain around what Mr. Hale was telling him.

"Drink your water and off to bed you go. I am certain tomorrow things will be much clearer to you."

Edward stood and downed another glass of water before hesitantly taking a step. His legs felt unsteady, and he immediately collapsed back into the chair.

"Or, maybe a little rest would be good for you, young man," Mr. Hale said with a wan smile, remembering his own rather reckless days.

"Sounds good," Edward murmured, his eyelids suddenly feeling as though they were weighted down.

With a low chuckle, Horatio Hale closed the door behind him, leaving the poor young man to sleep, not envying the morning to come.

Whether it was few minutes or a few hours later was of no matter but Edward's eyes flew open as the pressing urge necessitated by four tumblers of whiskey and two of water grew. Wracking his bleary brain for the location of the nearest water closet, he stumbled down the hall, wincing at the racket he was making. Hopefully, he was not waking up the entire house. Moments later, relieved and cautiously listening for any signs of movement within the house, Edward quietly emerged before heading toward the door closest to his new abode.

"Edward?"

He turned to find a confused Isabella standing in the doorway leading to the passage towards the kitchen.

"What are you doing up at such an hour?" he demanded, wincing at how harsh his voice sounded in the silence of the house.

"Mrs. Alice asked for me to help her plan this week's meals what with the additional mouths and all. I think she wanted to know more about the party Papa insists on."

She fumbled with a piece of lace on her dress as he watched her. Edward could see the delightful, rosy blush grace her cheeks. He would surpass the trials of Hercules to see that smile every day of his life.

"Do you not want to celebrate your birthday?" He knew his sister, Tanya, loved a good party and was always trying to get herself invited to as many as possible.

"The birthday would be one thing. The coming of age and placing myself on the marriage block is another."

Edward took a cautious step forward, partially out of concern for crowding her and out of fear he might lose his balance. But he needed to be closer.

"Do you not wish to marry?" he murmured, reaching out to cup her cheek.

Isabella closed her eyes, reveling in the gentle touch.

"I would. Eventually. Should the right man …"

Her words were cut short as his lips touched hers. What started as a slow, tender kiss grew in intensity as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Edward's other hand cupped the back of her head, holding her tenderly.

Sweet kisses rapidly grew into more, and she tasted the whiskey on his lips as he deepened the embrace, drawing her nearer. Isabella sighed contently as fingertips lightly played with the loose strands of hair around her neck.

All too soon, he stepped back ever so slightly, leaving her breathless and wanting more.

"I will be that man, Isabella," Edward murmured lowly, in a voice full of promise as he took her hand and placed a soft kiss on her fingertips before bowing his head and taking his leave.

Isabella watched as he headed down the hall, wondering why his gait was a little unsteady. The moment he turned the corner, she fell back against the wall, releasing the breath she did not know she was holding.

 _I'm going to need more advice from Angela._

 **Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story. I do apologize for the delay—first it was RL, then a few contests, then it was RL again. I will be finishing it up (maybe 2 more chapters?) as quickly as possible. I'd like to get back to Cuddle Buddy, the Edward POV chapter for The Writing Academy, and possibly a little more for Daycare Dilemma.**

 **And I have to decide if I'm going to TFMU…it is practically in my backyard this year, but I may be going to San Diego with DH the weekend before.**

 ***mwah!***

 **DeJean**


	17. Chapter 17

**I did it! A chapter before I head downtown to TMFU! Whoo hoo!**

 **Once again, thank you for your patience as RL kicks my rump.**

10,000 hearty blacksmiths, each with two hammers, were using Edward's skull as an anvil when he regained consciousness. With a low, grumbling groan, he rolled to one side only to discover a particularly bright sunbeam determined to bore a hole through his eyelids. Another moan accompanied his futile attempt to find his pillow and use it as a shield.

The damned inconsiderate thing had fallen to the floor during the night and was just out of reach no matter how long he tried to stretch his arm.

"How can sunshine be so loud?" Edward muttered, nearly toppling to the ground.

Where was his shirt? Apparently, he had stripped out of his clothes but not put on his nightclothes the evening prior. As he strained to reach something, anything, to cover his head, images of the night before flashed through his mind.

" _Strange for a tutor to enjoy spending time with his student."_

" _If I did not enjoy it, I would not do it. But I do. Emmett's curiosity has allowed me many opportunities to find new topics of study and tailor them to his skills."_

" _If she should at any time, now or in the future, decide she cannot bear the thought of your presence, you would not take her for all that she has and…"_

" _Should she ever desire to be away from me, then I would leave her. Grant her her freedom. But not until she sent me away."_

And then he had found Isabella…his Bella, in the hallway.

By the gods, she was beautiful. Whiskey had softened his sense of comportment when he had found her, flushed and sleepy, a few buttons of her over-blouse unfastened. Edward had never been more tempted by the figure of a woman. The urge to kiss her, press against her, hold her flush against him had overtaken him.

It had felt right. She had felt right. Perfect against him.

Until he had realized he wanted to do much more than just hold her.

Through the haze of desire, Edward understood Isabella deserved better than to be taken advantage of without the promise of forever before witnesses and his ring on her hand, so he had backed away. Awkwardly. Uncomfortably. Unsteadily. He barely remembered the walk to his tiny cottage, but his arms still recalled how she felt in them.

The blacksmiths renewed their efforts at cracking his skull in half, and Edward pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. The wave of pain and nausea washed over him and finally faded, giving him motivation to find Mrs. Alice and hope and pray she had a cure in that pantry of hers.

"Well, look who has finally woken up!" Alice exclaimed, wiping her hands on a towel stuck through the waistband of her apron.

"Mrs. Alice, please," Edward groaned, blinking blearily at her all-too-chipper face as he stumbled through the doorway.

"My, don't you look a bit rough around the edges this fine day."

Had she always been this loud? He wondered, shuffling across the kitchen.

"Would you like something to eat? I've just put away the mid-day meal, but I can pull a cold plate out for you." She bustled around, finding bits and bobs to feed the young man.

"Mrs. Alice…"

"Master Emmett and Charles went for a walk and won't be back for a while. The Doctor and Mrs. Cullen are enjoying a stroll through town."

A crockery tankard was plunked onto the wooden table a little too loudly for Edward's taste. Peeping at the evil cook with one eye squinched shut and the other barely open, he was certain Alice giggled as she turned toward the fireplace, a spoon in one hand and a small plate in the other. He collapsed into the chair nearby, rubbing his hands on his pants, trying to settle his nerves.

"Mix these together and drink it right down. It'll make ya feel a world better."

Edward cautiously opened his eyes to see a mug of milk and a plate of what could only be described as black chunks.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously, poking one finger at the mass.

"Milk and soot. I've been told it makes a night of overindulgence vanish." Alice watched him expectantly.

"I wouldn't know."

"Neither would I, but it's what they say works." She shrugged and waited for him to take his medicine.

Edward's stomach rebelled at the idea of adding such a concoction to its contents. He shook his head and pushed the plate further away.

"Can't say I blame ya," Alice murmured, placing a still-warm wedge of freshly baked bread slathered in fresh butter before him. "This is more to my liking. It's what my Da would call for after a night celebrating."

His stomach agreed.

After his second piece of bread and a small chunk of bacon, Edward felt almost human and settled back into the chair.

"Mrs. Alice, where is Bell… Isabella? I assumed she would be here planning the festivities."

Alice gave him a broad smile, shaking her head.

"Isabella and I finished planning all that last night. At least what we can do until I get word on whether the grocer can get me what I need. No, Miss Isabella decided to visit Mrs. Cheney. Left almost as soon as the cock crowed, she did."

"Why on earth would—"

The sudden terror that she had run away gripped his heart. Had his behavior been so terrible that she could not face him this morning? That she could no longer bear to be under the same roof as he and went to stay with a friend. Would he no longer see her or enjoy their long talks over a cup of tea about every topic under the sun.

"Mrs. Cheney is Miss Isabella's oldest and dearest friend. They tell each other everything." The older woman dragged out the last word as if he should know what that meant.

Edward made a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his throat even though he had no idea just what she meant.

Alice chuffed and gently popped him on the arm with her dishtowel.

"It means, dear boy, she wants advice. Her father is insisting on this coming out party and that isn't Isabella. She does not like nor appreciate attention from a crowd. And, I dare say, her mind is made up as to who she wants to marry."

Edward's face must have begged the question, 'who?' for he found his other arm the victim of Mrs. Alice's lethal dishtowel.

"You, you silly boy. Who? Saints alive." Alice rolled her eyes as she wiped non-existent crumbs off the table. "So, she has gone off to see her friend and have a good talk with someone who knows relationships. About marriage and being married and what happens between a couple once the vows are said. With someone who won't go telling everyone what she has asked."

Rubbing the sting away on his arm, Edward's eyes widened as the comprehension of what Isabella was doing, although it made perfect sense. The young woman had no mother to educate her on the goings on between a man and a woman and had gone to her friend. He felt foolish at the fear that had overcome him when he had heard Isabella was not under the same roof.

"She should be home before tea, and I can set you two up a nice setting in the library, should you want," Alice offered, watching him expectantly.

"That sounds absolutely marvelous," Edward agreed, feeling a world better both physically and emotionally. He stood and brushed a light kiss onto her cheek before returning to his room, leaving a flabbergasted woman in his wake.

Isabella was a woman on a mission. Early that morning, she had asked for Angela's advice, surprising her best friend with her line of questioning, especially after inquiring Reverend Cheney's location.

" _I honestly had expected questions of a completely different sort, Bella!"_

" _You should know never to expect anything with me, Angie."_

Oh, it had felt good to laugh with her friend. And to discuss her fears _._ But not her fears about the wedding night as Angela had first thought. She wanted to discuss her trepidation of standing before the town as the menfolk vied for her dowry and the women talked behind their hands about her. Isabella had seen it before, read about such goings on in countless books—even the one that had been burned in her fit of righteous anger. No, she could not see herself doing that.

She would not.

Isabella Marie Swan was not going to be paraded around as a prize. She had found her happily ever after and now had a plan to ensure she got him.

Returning home after an enjoyable luncheon with The Reverend and Mrs. Cheney, she had become more and more sure of herself and her idea. It would work. It had to succeed. Now to pray her father's mind had not changed and his disposition not altered from the one that had left six months prior.

Just as she rapped on the door to her father's study, Edward rounded the corner. She did not fail to notice how his face brightened when he saw her, and Isabella was fairly certain her own did the same.

"Do you wish to ask for my hand?" she blurted out.

"What?" Edward was confused at the first words out of her mouth.

"If there was a way to avoid the cattle market and turn the coming out party into an engagement announcement, would you still want me for a wife?"

She knocked louder on the door without waiting for his reply. Edward took her hand before she injured it beating on the oak boards. He rubbed it soothingly before gently placing a kiss on her knuckles.

"Mrs. Alice said your father and Emmett had gone for a stroll."

Isabella groaned, rolling her eyes.

"They've gone to the pond to go fishing," she muttered, glaring at the door. "They won't be back before supper, if even then."

"Bella, I…"

"Ooh, there you are," Mrs. Alice interrupted, pushing a tea cart. "Mr. Masen agreed the two of you would like a nice tea when you re…turned?"

Alice noticed the odd tension between the two and looked from one to the other questioningly.

"Miss Isabella wished to speak to her father over an urgent matter, Mrs. Alice. She is a bit put out that he is not here," Edward explained, not realizing he was still holding his beloved's hand.

"Ah, well. Completely understand. Shall I set up in the sunroom or the parlor?"

Edward looked at Isabella to indicate she should decide.

"Sunroom, please. Thank you so much," Isabella replied softly, her nerves calming as Edward caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

With a brisk nod, Alice headed off and the couple followed. Soon, the two were seated and tea was poured.

"I went to visit Angela today," Isabella murmured, offering a plate of cookies to Edward after Mrs. Alice took her leave. He selected two and placed them on his saucer.

"Mrs. Alice said as much."

"And I have a plan as to avoid it all."

"Avoid?"

"Being on display, as if I'm a prize to go to the highest bidder."

"I see. And this plan is?"

"I will inform Papa that I do not wish to have anyone else court me. That you have asked and I have accepted your offer of marriage and that there is no need."

"And if he disagrees with this?" Edward picked up one cookie and prepared to take a bite.

"Then I will tell him I have seen you in the tub. Naked."

 **Evil cliffie, I know…but I wanted this posted today. VBG.**

 **And yes, according to my research, soot and milk was a hangover during the Victorian/Edwardian era. Ewww! Double ewww since DH's workplace manufactures said product (carbon black).**

 **I'm planning to do a Cuddle Buddy chapter next (they are loudly protesting not being heard) and then back to this story.**

 **As always, I'd love to know what y'all think and have a safe holiday weekend, my friends!**

 **DeJean**


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